birds, culture and conservation symposium

Last friday I attended this fascinating event in Oxford, run by Paul Jepson and the lovely Mark Cocker. I went home feeling physically heavier as a result of all the new information weighing down my brain! Not to be overly dramatic, or anything...

It really was a great idea for an event though, a sounding board for ideas in poetry, art, philosophy and science, culminating in a discussion about the future of conservation.

I particularly enjoyed Jeremy Mynott who spoke most impressively without any notes. I'm really looking forward to going birding with him in the spring.

Yesterday I was given some writing to do for the RSPB - essentially writing copy - which I've spent this morning on. It's actually a rather lovely task to edit the letters from volunteers, you get a sense of what being a part of an organisation means to individuals and it can be quite moving.

But enough sentimentality, the weather is foul and my heron is all puffed up in fury across the river.

Herons

No matter how many I see, every sighting of a heron gives me goosebumps.

They are utterly distinctive against the river banks, so tall and yet delicate enough to have been crafted from wire. I also enjoy how such a still creature can occasionally jerk into action, like a clockwork toy, at the suggestion of a fish beneath the water's surface.

At London Zoo yesterday (one of my favourite haunts) the real stars for once were not the crowd-pleasing penguins, but instead the savvy heron who, spotting his opportunity for a free lunch, had swooped down into the enclosure, and was sidling up to the keeper and his bucket of fish. The heron obviously thought that, like fishing, he only needed to move slowly enough that the keeper wouldn't see him. He seemed unaware of his tall stature, and his sharp, angular contrast to the chubby little birds beneath him.

I would have given him the whole bucket.

Spiders

I just wrote my gb wildlife column for October, on spiders. I love doing those columns, because I learn so much in the process. For example- did you know a spider's web with a radius of 3cm could stop a Boeing 747 in full flight?? Amazing stuff.

I have a new respect for the spider living above the towel rail now. He looks so pleased with his web, but I don't think it's occurred to him that there aren't many insects to catch indoors. At least, I hope there aren't!

Used a quote from the lovely people at Buglife. They sent me something a few hours after I emailed them, which was ever so kind. I personally think everyone should become a member.

articles

...appearing in this month's and next month's Bird Watching magazine- a feature on starlings, and a review of Simon King's autobiography... A little nervous about the latter!

Fowlmere

Today went on a perfect autumn walk in Fowlmere. And by perfect, I mean the weather was summery (not a big fan of the other seasons). Inside the hides it was positively stuffy, and couldn't resist dangling my arms out into the sunshine...even at the risk of scaring birds!

Plenty to see, despite not having bins with us. Emperor Dragonflies and Common Darters, wonderfully weird Ear Fungus, tart elderberries and Brown Trout. The light catching in webs made me decide my October column should feature garden spiders. There is currently one living in my left wing mirror, which could well be one of Britain's best travelled arachnids....

Blackberries were already shrivelling on the branches-has this gotten earlier, or is it just me being nostalgic and old? Keep thinking I should attempt to make elderberry cordial, or perhaps sloe gin.

A Truth

There is no love more destructive than the love of a cat for cat-mint. My cat gorges her passion with hearty mouthfuls, followed by joyous rolling. The weeks go by and she is left mourning at the plant's stump.

Holiday (celebrate!)

Off to Somerset tomorrow and I absolutely CAN'T WAIT! 

Stocked up with natural history books (it's high time I got to grips with the Natural History of Selbourne) and have already arranged a visit to Secret World animal sanctuary.

I'm also taking Simon King's autobiography with me, which I'm reviewing for Bird Watching. I'm about half-way through it and already thinking he ought to have written a book purely about wildlife stories, as the autobiographical side is a little lacking. I suppose it's jealousy on my part, but the man never seems to have met with any resistance. Everyone in his life is far too nice.

Sigh.