Tuesday, 14 December 2010


I overslept this morning. And how the fickle hand of fate shifts our fortunes with such tiny changes to our daily routines. Through competely neglecting my wife and child I was only running about 5 minutes late when I left the house, only for my bike to come to a screeching halt moments later outside Ripon College.  In strict sequential order, first my ears, then my motor cortex, then my arm muscles, all reacted to a high pitched trilling call coming from the sky and they stopped my bike.  This only left my frontal lobes flapping around as I tried to form the word "WAXWING!". It called 3 or 4 more times before I saw it, flying low over the college, over my head, before disappearing into the trees around Bishops's Wood. Waxwing - it's on the Cuddesdon list, and very nearly on the garden list too! The rest of my commute took place with me encased in a warm happy glow.

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