31st March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
After a night of torrential downpours and howling gales, the wind and rain continued all morning. The sea is at its tumultuous mightiest creating a rich roaring noise blotting out every other sound. The big breakers crashing onto the beach. Now the wind in the tree tops makes a great rushing noiseto match the sea. This is not by any means the biggest gale we’ve had on the West Cliff but it somehow sems more searching, reaching in among the quiet, still spots under the trees. Everything is in motion, blades of grass, ivy hanging from the tree trunks, the small bushes. The grass is brilliant emerald green this morning lit by the dispersed light from the sun through the cloud cover. It is the sort of soft light that gives equal brilliance to all the green clours, the dark green of the pine branches and the mid green of the long grass and the yellow green of the patches recovering from the long forgotten drought. And out in the bay, half hidden in the mist the P&O Pioneer rides out the big swell.
From 31st March 2022
The BBC weatherman said that the cold snap would put spring on hold. Indeed there has been a searingly bitter wind and throughout the day there have been flurries of grains of icy hail and sleet. But nature is a powerful force. Once spring has been urged along there is no stopping it or slowing it. Despite the wind a greenfinch sings its fresh spring song from the topmost branch or a leafless bush. Other birds will not be stopped from singin either. The sea is almost smooth and reflects the pale blue of the sky. Men of all ages are wearing shorts despite the temperature. It is, apparantly a fashion. The small flowers are pushing upwards. As sunset approaches there are smudges of purple cloud. which are painted a a deep orangey brown. As darkness gathers real snow begins to chase up and down before the wind. #Bournemouth #westclifffgreen #spring #march
From 31st March 2021
A thin veil of mist hangs in the fresh air. No sign of the sun behind the uniform grey cloud cover. Every sound seems still and softened. The sea luxuriates on the beach. A robin comes to stand on the rail next to my hand. Then moves to a branch where he can get a better view of me, head cocked on one side. Tiny black beads of eyes asking all the questions it might want answered about someone like me. For once March is going out as lamblike as it came in. Just a degree or two warmer.
