29th December from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Ice cream fresh and cold. A steady breeze. The sun comes and goes from between the little banks of clouds. The sea is expansive and churns up and down the beach. Up, between the branches of the pines, the sky, whatever colour, is beatufully framed, as always. Couples pass to and fro, smiling as they do, clinging to each others’ arms in their bright, new Christmas anoraks.
From 29th December 2021
A damp, misty afternoon. It would be silent apart from a squadron of gulls swirling and screeching overhead. A small wind slides them away over the tree tops, their voices diminishing with the distance. The waves continue sobbing steadily leaving tear-stains on the sand with the retreating tide. The lights on the promenade begin to prickle on through the gloom. There is a late afternoon chorus of small birds, robins, wrens, blackbirds. A mistle thrush rehearses parts of an old song; polishing it and smartening it for the spring. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #winter #december
From 29th December 2016
The fourth day of Christmas is traditionally St Soupage day when all the left overs from the feasting are thrown into a great cauldron and boiled within an inch of their lives and then frozen in blocks to be resurrected in July. The story of St Soupage himself I will leave to your imaginations.
