A cold snap, bitter as winter

Beach journal 13th May 2026

West Pier, Brighton. 10am. 9°C, sunny spells, cold wind. One hour after high tide.

It’s Wednesday, my usual detour along the beach is earlier today and the beach is mostly empty. The cold wind is keeping any walkers up on the promenade. People are in thick coats again except for the runners.

The cafes are quiet and the shops under the arches are still closed. I stride off the path and over the stony ridge, down towards the sea.

Gulls are gathered on the slope, tidy white ovals, spaced out and facing into the wind.

I pause briefly nearby and my presence disturbs one of the birds on the edge of the group, they stretch up their wings and take flight. I keep walking and wonder how many are here, over a hundred at least, maybe two.

Gulls gathered on the shingle

The wind is strong and I can see the surface waves being pushed onto the shore. The tide is coming in with force. Despite the heavy churn of the waves the deep blue tones of spring still colour the view. On the horizon, a dark blue ribbon stretches out across the ocean.

The sun is not yet strong enough to warm me against the freezing wind and I don’t loiter on the pebbles. It’s better to keep moving on days like these. The cold snap in May can be more bitter than a January chill.

The West Pier, Brighton

I leave the gulls and head back up to the Upside Down House where there is a little shelter, a relief for my aching ears and fingers. The place is empty and for a moment it feels like winter. Then the sun cuts through and brightens the brickwork and I remember that summer is coming.