Boscombe pier – derrickjknight

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Yesterday I expressed m intention to published the prints from Newark 1993. Today I changed my mind. I decided to hold them in reserve for the next dull day. This could have been one. But it wasn’t. It was one of bright, crisp, sunshine.

Jackie continued potting up

cuttings

in the greenhouse.

After lunch, she drove us to Boscombe and back.

We stopped within sight of the pier.

As I walked down the slope, a young woman walked up.

A boat, approaching from the left, skirted the structure stretching seaward. Was it a lifeboat? The water was certainly rough enough for someone to be in trouble.

At the bottom of the slope two sculptures, one in a garden,

and another on Undercliff Drive, caught m attention.

I then had the serendipitous good fortune

to gatecrash

a photo shoot

conducted by

three delightful

young ladies. The third, given that she was carrying out the same role as me, is not in shot.

As we left this suburb of Bournemouth, the skies gave promise of the good sunset we were to witness later.

Despite a propensity to allow his exuberance to take him swerving all over the road,

this joyful cyclist, seen here approaching Hengistbury Head, kept up a good 20 m.p.h. We parted company with him as he wheeled onto the footpath leading up the headland.

The sunset was ripe

outside Burley;

the murmuration of starlings swirling over Holmsley was a sweeping cloud formation;

the crescent moon exchanged places with its daytime counterpart.

This evening we dined at The Monkey House pub just outside Lymington. The establishment was as packed as ever, demonstrating its quality and the friendliness of the staff. Jackie enjoyed prawn cocktail and gammon steak. My choice was whitebait followed by rib-eye steak. Everything excellently cooked. Jackie drank Amstell and I drank Flack’s Double Drop

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This afternoon Jackie drove me to Hengistbury Head, where she drank coffee and I explored the scene.

En route to the beach, I passed the top of the hill, where walkers could be seen, to my left,

and observed silhouetted figures against the sea and skyline.

There was a new angle on the Isle of Wight and The Needles.

Walkers accompanied their dogs along the beach,

where a group did their best to dodge the advancing tide.

A gentleman contemplated the scene, and walked down the shingle to join them.

Eventually I did the same, and watched the sea slap the flanks of the rocks,

receding, sliding, slipping over the glistening, tinkling, shingle, and sucking at the seeping sand.

Soon the rolling waves came roaring in

and I walked back up to the footpath, passing a stone face, mouth open, ready to drink from the spume that would hopefully reach it.

I watched walkers ascending the hill which had once been home to Stone Age people (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hengistbury_Head)

Below, others were returning along the beach where

a pair of swans I had seen earlier still floated on the water.

We continued on to Boscombe where the pier was set against the sunbeams lighting the sea,

before returning home to a meal of fish cakes in lemon and parsley sauce, with boiled potatoes, carrots, cauliflower and broccoli, followed by bread and butter pudding. We finished the sauvignon blanc.

Tag: Boscombe pier

The Photo Shoot

The Stone Face