30th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Under a lumpy grey sky the wind is bracing and the blue-green sea is doing its own thing. The sun sends shafts of brilliant light down between the clouds which polish the grey sea in patches like the work of a drunken butler on the silver ware. Someone sits alone contemplating the clouds and the hurrying green waters of the bay. It is striking how the pines erupt straight up out of the ground without any apparent roots. No wonder they are pushed over so easily. It is the hay-fever season and these are the culprits. Fat pigeons coo and magpies chatter from low branches.
From 30th March 2022
It is still light when I go out this evening. The air is windless but biting cold. The sky lours oppressively. Out in the bay a thick fog obscures the Purbeck Hills and the Isle of Wight. The sea is slate green grey and calm but fritters away at the edge. Smudged chalk marks on the path. I can still make out a face like a dustbin and a giant hopscotch grid. The evening chorus is in full swing and there are so many voices I cannot make out individuals. The gulls are wailing in the distance. People on the benches sit curled in on themselves. The short grass is covered by an endless carpet of daisies that seem to glow in the half light. The lights show up bright from the cafe at the bottom of the Chine. The evening closes in. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #March
From 30th March 2021
The sky is clear and the air is bitingly cold. A few clouds, already pink edged in anticipation of the sun. A heavy dew weighs down the early flowers and covers the grass. The sea stretches and purrs like a cat on a hearthrug. Pigeons coo and the small birds are beginning to warm up in the bushes. Just then the sun emerges over the horizon, a brilliant gold disc which beams instant warmth to the dawn.
