Tuesday 5 May 2015

Birds, etc.

Well blow me down - I'm on The Dabbler again, tracing a bizarre connection between John Snagge and one Wally Hope... Meanwhile, of course, my mind is on higher things. In two days' time, the nation will make known its will and Britain's National Bird will be named.  Oh and there's that other business going on too, so I guess it's time for Old Nige's Prognostick - which is, for what it's worth, that Cameron will scrape home, with the help of some kind of alliance/coalition. I predicted a Cameron scrape in 2010 too, with rather more confidence. But the Miliband Monolith might turn out to be Ed's Sheffield Moment ('We're awriiiight!') - the moment at which it became clear that he has already gone mad, before even setting foot in Downing Street. Whatever Cameron's been up to, at least he hasn't gone mad, after five years of it - which is no mean feat these days.
 Meanwhile, an Orange Tip flew my way in Holland Park on May Day - and this morning, as I stared blearily out of the train window, I spotted my first Swift of the year, looking rather small and lonely as it circled quietly under lowering clouds. The globe's still working.


  1. I'd hazard a lib lab pact. Cameron doesn't look as though he wants it.

  2. Strange year for birds, Nige, or animals as that odd bird Packham calls them. The swifts arrived over the Tweed on Sunday, diving under the chain bridge, for shelter obviously. The cuckoo turned up about two weeks ago, cucked twice and hasn't been heard since. For the first time in three years the grey wagtails are out and about, hunting over the burn. The gang of long tailed tits is much depleted, no more than six on the bird feeder. The bullfinch put in an appearance and promptly did a runner, the jay seems to think it owns the lawn, much to the annoyance of misc robin, thrush and blackbird.

    A puzzling start to the summer, hey-ho, by early Friday, all will be revealed, chaos wise.