29th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Heavy, thick fog. Like a muslin wrap, concealing the landscape and hung among the trees making walking through them an adventure where bears could appear at any moment. From the Green it is impossible to see either the sea on one side, or the buildings of the town on the others. Although strange sounds fill the air their origins cannot be identified. They may be the wheeze of greenfinches or the wail of gulls or, just as likely for today, a mysterious music; the Green is Prospero’s Island cut off from the rest of the world.
From 29th March 2022
Here on the clifftop it's sometimes difficult to tell whether it's low cloud or heavy mist or light fog. Haar, sea fret; there are so many different ways of describing this penomenon and they all have different atmospheric causes. Today, it's low cloud, moving silently through the branches of the trees whilst, down on the beach, it's comparatively clear. The overnight rain has meant that there are big silver drops in the crook of al the new, long leaves of grasses and three sided leeks. The sea is calm and the small birds are all singing from the bushes. That might even be a goldfinch I can hear. A pigeon coos. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #March
From 29th March 2021
Although there is a fine drizzle and low grey cloud there is a strange clarity as trees and bushes emerge from the gloom. And there is colour, too. Muted and pastel but colour all the same. The grey green sea stretching far out to the horizon is lined with a neat band of white surf against the palest of yellow strips of sand. out of the breeze, beneath the trees there is dead stillness broken only by the cooing of the pigeons. The garlic sccented three sided leeks are coming into flower en masse. On the zig zag, massively bethighed young men run up and down for some reason only known to them.
