30th November from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Tiny speckles of drizzle fill the air from time to time. It’s a quiet day. The sea rustles gently on the beach. Someone has created a flambeau from a pine branch and propped it against a lamp post. A statement about… something. A narrow strip of golden sky intervenes abruptly between the sombre grey cloud and the ruler sharp, steel grey horizon. Mist hangs in the trees. A fresh breeze hides on every corner, ready to make itself known to the walker. Pigeons busy themselves about the branches of the bare trees. Wagtails jump and turn acrobatically. The big red and white Search and Rescue Helicopter buzzes across the bay and disappears into the curtain of mist hanging above the Purbeck Hills.
From 30th November 2021
A quilted sky of graphite, purple and lemon. A tiny slivver of brightness near the horizon makes a a thin trail of silver across the sea. The wind is getting up but it's not cold. Not as cold as it has been ovr the last few days. The incoming tide is propelled gently onto the beach with a slight swell. Magpies are staking out a possible source of supper. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #November #winter
From 30th November 2018
Couldn't be more different. T-shirt weather. Coffee on in the beach hut. Doze in the warm sun.
From 30th November 2012
I'd like to place on record my appreciation for the hard work of all those involved in the Durley Gardens Shoutathon. This daily long distance event (up to 45 minutes) is held between the hours of 4.00 am and 5.00 am and is obviously a follow up to the summer's Olympic sprint events. This morning I would dearly have loved to join the cause from my bedroom window but I was unsure which charity was being helped. Presumably one for the terminally hard of hearing.
From 30th November 2010
A blizzard is raging in Bournemouth, where's my scarf? Perhaps I've been overstating the snow in Bournemuff angle. More a light dusting of dandruff on the shoulders of the town.
