The tree trunks have assumed a strange two tone look where the rain has made the windward side a dark chocolate brown against the silver grey to leeward.

dandelions push up in any little space at the side of the path or breaking through the tarmac.

People are determined to enjoy the first warmish day of the year despite the still fresh breeze. The sea is calm and quiet and the beach is populated with families enjoying the sand.

The blue sky is smeared with white where the window cleaner has not quite finished his job.

The sea is blue but the persistent chilly wind continues.

Who’s that I can see through the trees. It’s Jarvis an old Pirate

The celandines which have been closed up tight in the cold have taken a chance and burst out in golden masses among the clifftop grasses.

The sun is bright and has just divested herself of the last few veils of muslin clouds.

one of the brown and white eastern most goats becomes unusually friendly and tries to eat my mobile with his prehensile tongue

Although the big leaves are growing up wildly, the flowers are, as yet, small and closed away.

It is the sort of soft light that gives equal brilliance to all the green clours, the dark green of the pine branches and the mid green of the long grass and the yellow green of the patches recovering from the long forgotten drought.

The sun sends shafts of brilliant light down between the clouds which polish the grey sea in patches like the work of a drunken butler on the silver ware.

From the Green it is impossible to see either the sea on one side, or the buildings of the town on the others.

Rows of yellow and blue flags were set out across the green and groups of earnest looking students and bored lecturers cluster round the levels and reflectors on orange tripods.

Along the side of the path a large clump of mallow joins all the other large leafed green plants such as thistles and wild carrot.

A pair of Herring gulls eye each other up in another of their odd courtship dances.

A pale green blackberry leaf gives us all hope for a future harvest.

The big, blustery breeze has blown itself into half a gale. It sends the bubbling, raggedy grey clouds bowling across the patches of blue.

A strong buffeting wind crumples the sea up like an old crisp packet. The jagged ridges of of water snarl against the sand and try to smother it in a mass of white.

Gulls cross high against the hazy sun.