The email’s blown up. A real 21st century disaster. They’ll come and fix it in the course of one of those eternities they call 3-4 working days. So you may not get this for a while.
Still, I’m now on the train, hammering from Norwich to London, where I have a speaking gig to promote Ten Million Aliens. Here at least the wifi is doing its stuff, so I’ve just caught up with the day’s messages, sent some copy to RSPB, and answered a query from The Independent. I’ve just done a few words for them about raptors and they wanted a tip about looking for wildlife. So I sent this.
Never stop watching. Never stop listening. Nothing is more important.
It’s not about going birdwatching. It’s about being tuned in. Always. So your eyes and your ears pick up stuff before your conscious mind has made a contribution. As a batsman in the zone doesn’t think about what shot to play next, so a good birder, a good wildlifer doesn’t think about looking for non-human life. When you’ve got your eye in the whole thing just flows.
And that’s what wildlife should be: not just a treat, not just something special, but part of everyday experience. As ordinary as Corn Flakes.
Between Norwich and Diss, in the middle of answering an email from some excellent person interested in Aliens, I saw three red deer in the dusk. Just loitering in a field. Pale caudal patches – what we naturalists call the bum – shining out in the gloom. Somehow managing to be both spooky and homely at the same time.
They must have called out to me as I passed.
Just buried our Tess a Bichon born in the house 12 years ago under the apple tree. Loved her to bits. Enjoy the garden Tess.
It is always so very sad to lose a much loved dog. Can I recommend to you an essay by Ben Hur Lampman who wrote a column in the Oregonian newspaper, entitled “where to bury a dog”. I am sure a Google will find it. Sleep well Tess.
Dogs are so brilliant at enjoying the wild world that they inspire their human companions every day. Commiserations on your loss.
Morning Simon- internet service has resumed- in Australia at least.
Glad to have you back!
Talking about “having your eye in” (what a wonderful use of the cricketing metaphor), a few of us had been on a walk in the near countryside (i.e., on the fringes of the great metropolis) and had stopped for lunch at a cafe. Sitting outside eating, I glanced up in time to see a tree-creeper working its way up a nearby tree: just a you suggested above, Simon, while eating and talking, I was still looking around and at the body of water we were near.
What’s the point of being in the country if we aren’t looking to see what’s near us? It did help that the walk leader is an inveterate birder.
Thanks for telling me about this classic birding moment. It’s not just about the big stuff, it’s about those dramas played out to an audience of one.