July 24th

It is just the afternoon for saunterers and amblers on the West Cliff Green. It seems to be what Sunday afternoon is for. Visitors of a certain age in their twos or threes, couples with their baby buggies, men who just stop and stare into the distance leaning on the Clifftop rail. The earlier grey clouds have blown away still with no sign of rain. The wind is brisk and blustery. The sea is full of nervous excitement and, although the beach is much emptier than might be expected on a warm July weekend, those who venture out from behind their windbreaks are enjoying bumping and bobbing in the waves. The red and yellow life guards’ flags stand out from their poles. Only the European Blue Flag is missing. In the dappled light beneath the pines a couple with a buggy have spread out a blanket and are playing with their baby. The wind blows through the pine tops above them with a deep, soothing roar. #Bournemouth #westcliffgreen #July #summer

And from 2019

The wind is hot as soon as I step out into the darkness. I have been following the storm across the channel and I want to see if I can get some footage. The sea is fretting and restless and makes too much noise to hear the distant thunder but the sky is lit up with almost continuous flashes from behind the clouds on all sides. As the storm nears a dull rumble can be heard above the waves. Now it is louder but there are no great claps, just the distant bougbouration. The grumbling bellies of a whole herd of mastodons heard across the tundra. And then the warm rain, the drops as big as those proper pennies we used to spend at Mrs Rosier's sweet shop on chocolate and pear drops And obeying the first rule of valour I sprint for home before the rain lashes down in torrents.. (By the way, I know the medical term is "borborygmus" but I like my word anyway.)