31st October from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
The sun glares from between the ragged scraps of cloud. Reflecting up off the heaping green waves. There is enough sunshine for couples to promenade after breakfast. A man stands on a little raised area of ground and whistles. He continues whistling for some minutes. “Is there a dog on the end of that whistle?” I ask. he shrugs. “She does what she wants. Goes where she pleases.” A gull hangs motionless on the strong breeze. A goat bleats and rushes off as he has some important head bunting to do. A little later an unclaimed dog lead hangs from a tree. The whistling man is still where he was - whistling. Later still, the day closes in and rain patters on the path.
From 31st October 2021
Although autumn started early this year, it is taking a long time to get going in earnest. Thre are both green and yellow leaves on the sweet chestnuts. The big blustery wind has brought down branches of some size as well as the usual haul of twigs and pine needles. But again, there is as much green debris as gold. The surf roars and rushes out of the darkness but there are decided bumps when the curling breakers hit the beach. Every so often a torrent of rain deluges from the scurrying clouds paters on the hoodies of those hurrying home. #Bournemouth #WestCliff #autumn #october
From 31st October 2020
The wind streams in hard across the clifftop throwing icy hands full of rain into my face. It buffets and brawls with the trees and bushes. The paths are covered in a spinning, drifting carpet of the long, flat yellow and gold leaves of the sweet chestnuts. It seems as though they have decided that autumn is finally here and throwing off their summer green are happy to bow and dance naked in the breeze. There is a constant roar and hiss from the sea, its white breakers reaching far up the beach. Out on the horizon our four cruise ships huddle, finding what protection they can in the lee of the Purbeck Hills. Plastic cups and cans have burst from the rubbish bins and make a jolly sounding rattle and tinkle as they are carried along. The gulls acrobat around each other silhouetted black against the brilliant yellow strip of sunrise between the steel grey of the sea and the troubled, roiling clouds. The aerials on the roof of a nearby block of flats chorus an eerie rising and falling continuo sound track. It is Halloween after all.
