5th May from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth

A family of crows in open order sweep imperiously along the Green. They keep in touch by barking at each other from time to time. Ragged grey clouds sweep by but on the horizon there is the merest hint of a pale blue sky. The crinkled sea rushes against the flat rain soaked sand. It’s a rainy drizzly morning and although it’s stopped now everything is wet but it smells as though it might be nicer later on. Three pigeons sit on three fence posts in line with the horizon. One moves along the wire and back again. The rain has washed the pine pollen into pale lemon yellow swirls on the path. The council has put up a new sign warning people not to pitch tents or light barbecues. We shall see.

From 5th May 2022

A fine morning with bubbles of warmth radiating up from the thick green undergrowth of brambles, bracken and ribwort on the cliff top. Some of the blackberries are already showing white flowers. Later the grey clouds cover the sun and the wind gets up again. But it is not as cold as it has been. An oak tree is in full leaf. Where the oxalis has formed clumps, the shocking pink is visible right across the far side of the green. Great tits are busy back and forth in the low branches of the trees making all sorts of little calls and chirps to each other. A serious bird watcher once told me that if you hear a song you don't recognise it is probably a great Tit as they sing many more songs than just the monotonous "Teacher. teacher. teacher." we get told as children. A crow in glossy black plumage is on a quest through the long grass. A new flower today is the dandelion-like Catsear. The rosette of downy leaves feel just like ... well, you guess. #westcliffgreen #bournemouth #spring #May    xxxxxxxxxSwallow hawking for flies on clifftop

From 5th May 2021

It's warm enough where I am leaning on the rail looking down on the beach below. The sun is casting shadows of branches and leaves on the path. But there is still the sharp breeze and in the distance, over the Purbeck Hills there are huge wodges of dark clouds and blocks of rain and hail falling on the residents of Studland. The breeze rises, the sun fades. Time to make a dash for it.

From 5th May 2019

I stood watching a National Sporting Team practising on the beach this morning. After a strenuous warm up, the coach called his players over to the promenade: "Over here, lads. Sit on the concrete." I was horrified. My Mum could have warned him of the dire consequences of sitting on cold concrete. Surely it's on page one of the training manual. So, if you hear of the English Beach Football Team having to scratch from an international competition this summer, you will know the reason why.