31st August from the West Cliff Green

A sardonic little breeze and a blue sky brushed with high white cirrus clouds. The sunlight is sharp where it streams through the trees and the day is already warm. A big green swell out in the bay that tumbles onto the flat, beach empty apart from a couple of early swimmers and a lone dog walker. A fishing boat bobs out in the bay. Although the crows and pigeons are spick and span in their new coats of feathers, the magpies are still decidedly shabby looking. They still manage their lordly strut however. A wren sings piercingly from a bush, loud enough to make a passer-by jump. The holm oak branches are weighed down with a mass of tiny golf ball shaped acorns.

From August 31st 2021

When the breeze drops it is warm enough under the grey cloud cover. But there are bright blue patches at the edge of the sky and towards the West there are little pools of light on the bay. Children still squeal with delight when they see the sea for the first time from the clifftop. The paths are littered with the remains of pine cones, stripped bare by the squirrels like corn on the cob. In the soft afternoon air, flats have their windows open and I can hear the clink of china as tables are being laid for tea.

From August 31st 2015

The rain pattering on the window and running in the gutters forms and reforms little clumps of sound that sometimes resemble voices just out of earshot.