A walk in the park

This afternoon I went for a walk. Cold, but sunny. It had been some time since. I was first disappointed because the lakes were frozen. I bet you don't see it often here. I'd brought some bread to feed the swans. I hoped the swans were clever enough to move to the river. Eventually I found them - and the ducks and the moorhens - in a tiny space of open water. And I am so happy to say that four cygnets have survived. They look exactly like ugly ducklings, all piebald, but I think they are very pretty.

There was also a mother with four kids playing the Troll Bridge and the Three Billy-Goats, and I suddenly remembered what fun it was when I was a child.

Bank holiday

Bank holidays is a euphemism for anything that might be offensive. It is obviously offensive - for radically different reasons - to call them May Day and Ascension, as they are still called in The Old Country, but there have always been holidays in May, so therefore there are two Bank holidays in May. I don't mind. What we call a rose...

My dear friend Jean celebrated her 60th birthday on Sunday, so we went to her cottage in Herefordshire. The weather was gorgeous, and everybody had fun, as it should be at a birthday party. We stayed at The Green Man Inn in Fownhope, which boasts of being 15th century, and there are perhaps bits of it that old. It was nice anyway, and the man in the reception spoke a very genuine dialect.

In the morning we went to the International Birds of Prey Centre, just a half-hour drive from where we were. Staffan had been there before, about fifteen years ago(when it still was National), and had been talking about it ever since. I have seen other raptor demonstrations, both in Sweden and in San Diego, and it is always amazing. Even so I felt ambivalent. It's fantastic to watch falcons, owls and eagles in flight. But it is horrible to see them roped to their pegs. The broschure describes how happy they are, and how they are exercised every day and get food. But when I saw an eagle trying to fly from his perch, with a three-foot rope holding him back, I almost cried.

The Centre offers "experience days": you can get to know some birds, train them, maybe even fly them. You can choose between falcons, hawks and owls. I know what I want for my 60th birthday.

Casual conversation

You never know what may happen at a conference. I have arranged to have a meal with some people after their Tolkien marathon (reading from The Two Towers uninterrupted for several hours). After I have waited for 45 minutes I realise that the reading might go on forever and I'd better look for another company. I walk around a bit, go out to the pool bar, hoping to spot someone I vaguely know. As I re-enter the restaurant, two gentlemen wave at me (this is the advantage of being a guest of honour - they know who I am) and invite me to join them, which I happily do. Both are veterans, have attended every conference from start and share memories. Then one of them must leave, and I assume we are breaking up, but the other gentleman seems to be willing to stay. We continue the conversation. It turns out we both enjoy teaching online and exchange ideas and experiences. In fact, he teaches children's literature, which is the least I would expect (typical prejudice). I mention San Diego where I taught my first online course. He has lived in San Diego for twelve years. We delve deeper into memories. He is a bird-watcher. We start an initiated discussion of a particular bird reserve south of Imperial Beach and the seasonal changes in bird population.

Next day, in my email box, I find a gorgeous photo of a blue heron.

Cliffs and curlews

We have decided to slow down in our hectic pace of life now that we have moved. My solemn oath is not to take work home. Instead, I intend to read non-work-related books, listen to music, pursue my hobbies and generally relax. (I know my children are having a good laugh when they read this).

We started the good intentions yesterday by taking a day off and going on an excursion. We both prefer nature to culture, so of the local attractions we chose the Hunstanton Cliffs in Norfolk, the northern coast of East Anglia. We discovered the place in a little folder that we picked up at the Cambridge tourist office. It was stunning! One may think that someone who has seen Grand Canyon or Uluru would not be impressed, but I am always awed by nature’s variety and inventiveness.

Then we went to the nearby Titchwell Bird Reserve and took a quiet stroll watching marsh harriers and the very special and rare avocets. We never saw bearded tits, that seem be the main attraction of the place. But curlews, martins, herons, egrets, oyster-eaters and sandpipers are quite enough for us.