Cycling into work on monday, going up the final slope. Out of a tree comes a woodpecker. The black and white and pinkish red. Short bursts of bouncing flight, up and down for about 30 yards in front of me. It lands in a willow and tucks itself behind a branch.
Then on the way home, above the hedges, wheeling in the afternoon sky, two swifts. I've never seen swifts outside of Norfolk before. I stopped and just stared, amazed. Filled with simple joy.
Am preparing to listen to Alison Brackenbury talk about John Clare on radio 3.
(And getting ready for White Noise Summer)
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