9th January from the West Cliff Green, Bournemouth
Chilly and damp. A fresh, clean breeze. The sea curls and laps as if whispering to itself. Something about sea shells and mermaids. I can’t quite catch it. The sun peers weakly from between the bubbles and pillows of grey cloud. But there is a pale blue sky up there somewhere and there is occasional warmth. Someone has found a good place to stack some rhododendron branches for not much reason. The squirrels are looking fat and well fed.
From 9th January 2022
The clifftop pines stand out with crystal clarity against the blue sky. The air is biting cold but the early sun warms it. The waves on the beach snarl and growl. But towards the west is a great curve of cloud denoting a weather front exactly as drawn on a forecaster's map. As it advances, a milky haze crosses the sun and the day is chilled. By slack water at the top of the tide, the waves have gone. A kestrel hangs on the air, its wingtip feathers gripping the air like fingers. It suddenly drops down the cliff and out of sight. #Bournemouth #westcliff #winter #january
From 9th January 2021
The air is thick with cold. Walking through it is like swimming through the biting chill. There is a soft greyness to everything. The sea, the sky, the hills. The world is still. Waiting.
From 9th January 2017
Something unexpected: Stepping outside for my evening constitutional on the West Cliff. The sound of the surf on the sands below. They cry of the gulls wheeling overhead and a thick sweet childhood scent of new mown grass. Thank you Bournemouth Council for that unexpected delight.
