8th March from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
A steady rain. The puddles are growing and reflect the pale grey sky like a row of silver mirrors. The only colour is the lavish golden yellow of the gorse. Although they are not particularly large or ferocious, the dirty green waves get themselves into a bit of a lather and cover the beach in white foam. The Mothers draw their buggies into the cliff top shelter and wait there for the rain to ease off. They chatter among themselves excitedly. A little flurry of tits flutter through the bare branches of the bushes. Although I can only see them in silhouette, the little crest on their heads tells me they are blue tits. They have a short but jaunty little song as they go.
From 8th March 2022
The long rollers of the colour Farrow and Ball call Green Smoke, heave themselves onto the beach with a lacy edged flourish. The wind is cutting and trimmed with hard rain drops under a slate jumbled cloud base. A couple of dandelions decorate the bare earth of a little wash out under a bank of gorse. Under the shrubs at the paths edge the three sided leeks are beginning to fill all the gaps and the air is heavy with their garlicky odour. Add the coconut from the gorse, the petrichor from last year's leaf litter, not to mention the distant undertone of the goats, and the air is filled with scents as rich as a in a very expensive restaurant. #bournemouth #westcliffgreen #spring #march
From 8th March 2012
A white full moon behind the broken cloud. The still fresh air carries the boom of the surf inland over the top of the cliff to the street where it mingles with the tyre rush of the hushed traffic.
