2nd January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

A pale blue sky and golden light falling on the branches of the trees. A gentle breeze. The sun is warm. Two pigeons swoop low overhead. The gulls wheel in the distance. Woolly hats are worn.


From 2nd January 2022

A complex sky of streaks and swirls and mountains of cloud in slate and light grey, always moving and shifting revealing occasional networks of white cross hatching beneath. Sometimes a distant gap lasering an intense brassy patch on the sea. The big white capped oily rollers in grey green with a yellowish tinge where the sand has been whipped up into the water make a frenzy of white foam at the waters edge. The wind grows and the grey curtains of rain head in from the hills. And then the rain comes. Big drops that within a matter of seconds become a driving deluge of water. Rivulets on the path turn almost instantly into streams and torrents. And within a couple of hours the sun has emerged to throw a lemon yellow glow over the later afternoon. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #winter #january


From 2nd January 2016

Somebody once tried to convince me that there were only twelve people in the world. They just kept dodging out of sight, changing their clothes and reappearing going in the other direction. We discussed this for a long time and in the end agreed on a figure closer to twenty. Tonight, as I walked the clifftop and watched the Isle of Wight Lighthouses, red for the Needles and white for St Catherine's Point I reminded myself that there were no lighthouse keepers anymore and both lights were entirely automatic. Looking in the other direction at the tumble of hotels and apartment blocks that line the Green all with lights blazing but no sign of inhabitants it occurred to me that the whole scene was automated as in a collection of dolls' houses or some enormous stage set. The whole population had been spirited away leaving the lights burning. All that was left was the restless grumbling of the ocean smearing the surf onto the sand below.

From 2nd January 2014

The sea is very loud tonight.

Peter John Cooper

Poet, Playwright and Podcaster from Bournemouth, UK.

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3rd January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

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