4th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Damp and chilly. A rustling grey sea under a grey sky. A haze on the horizon. Everything indefinite, nothing swims into focus. The air feels close and quiet rather like being in the damp undercroft of a church. It is soft with no resolution. A couple both wearing woolly pompom hats are huddled together on a bench. I bet that’s as much for warmth as for affection. All the other benches are empty and stretch far away into the hazy distance.
From 4th March 2022
Earlier a watery sun appeared from behind a covering of corrugated clouds and planished the rippled surface of the bay with a brassy sheen. Then the clouds drew back and the sky became littered with fair weather clouds whilst the sun shone more warmly. But as the afternoon progresses the clouds have built up again and there is a stiff, chill wind from the South West. People are out enjoying what sunshine there is. Four greenfinches flutter off from the top of a bush whilst others call from further along. In a little clearing the goats have made, a dunnock forages for good things. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #March
From 4th March 2021
A fresh, damp, misty morning. The air is still and the sea untroubled. Evergreen leaves of ivy, laurel and rhododendron are polished mirror smooth. The mist mutes all the colours except for the broad, careless swashes of brilliant yellow gorse. The crows regard themselves as masters of the clifftop and allow the gulls to paddle for worms on sufferance. One gull steps out of line and incurs the wrath of a crow lunging at him with head lowered and thrust out, Harsh voice saying "Get off my land" feathers on its crown raised, wings held out stiffly and tail spread and metallic looking. The gull, terrified by this samurai tumbles over itself in an attempt to get airborne. A second crow barks encouragement from the top of a lamp post.
