7th January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
The wind lifts the spray from the seething waves up onto the cliff top in a fine mist. For a moment the rain stops but even the bigger birds are keeping close into their hiding places in the trees. A robin tries to keep cheerful from the depths of a gorse bush. A jogger passes by his thin white matchstick legs look barely capable of supporting his slight frame. An elderly gentleman shuffles along. He is wearing his neat, dark Sunday suit as is appropriate for the day. We exchange greetings and the rain comes sheeting down again.
From 7th January 2022
The sky has been high and grey all day. But with a powerful diffuse glare that strains the eyes. The air is muggy. But later a bullying breeze springs up and the green sea begins to ferment and crumple into waves that make a loud agitated hiss. Purple Toadflax is spiking upwards in the shadier places. Bees of all types are going mad for the pink edged blackberry flowers. A white tailed bumble bee seems to be doing handstands on the top of the wooden handrail. Other bees are doing the same. On closer inspection it may be that they are carving off tiny piese of wood, presumably for nest building. The goats do what they seem to do best which is to eat bushes. It's astonishing how they scramble about the cliffs and force their way through dense bushes without tangling their long curving horns. By evening, the grey has got thicker and the wind colder. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #summer #June
From 7th January 2012
A storm cock on the highest branch of a tall cypress singing his heart out into the teeth of the gale; shouting his delight and defiance at the worst the weather can throw at him.
