There's a famous joke about a Welshman who gets marooned on a desert island. Years later a ship arrives, and he shows them around ..there's the pub, there's the rugby pitch, and there's the two chapels. The ship's captain asks the obvious question .... " Why two chapels?" "Well, it's obvious innit ! That's the one I go to, and that's the one I don't go to!" Yes. Indeed. A very male thing that. And yes, there's places I don't go to. For different reasons. For a start, there's Snettisham. Big, famous birding area in Norfolk. I've been "there" several times. I've got maps, directions, more maps, advice, I've got books, articles... the lot. But do you know what ? I've never found the bloody place ! I've ended up in all sorts of other places .... I suspect I've been very close to it. But I've never actually found it. So ... I'm not going there any more. It's too humiliating. I'M NOT GOING... so there. NOT GOING. Then there's a place I'll call "X". Yes, "X". I used to go there a lot, it's one of the best birding spots around where I live. But I haven't been there for many years. And it's all because I've fallen out with the person who DOES go there. . He's there all the time ! Let's call him/her "Mr/Ms X". That's a very male thing too. It's not my fault, but I'm not going there any more. ← full stop !! (!) Here's a more subtle one .... sometimes we go to places which can be quite good for birds ... but my companion in life, The Significant Otter, she wants to go to the "wrong" bit of it. Instead of going by the shore, she wants to go along some crappy old path over the bloody fields. Fields! What use are they. ? Or instead of walking round the lake she decides to go through the boring woods. Once she decided she wanted to walk along the site of a filled-in canal. What !! Totally birdless. And come to think of it, I'm not too keen on woods either. I've twice been seriously lost in woods and it's not good. How the hell Robin Hood managed to find his way around is a mystery to me. And woods, despite their "beauty" and "serenity" are pretty bird-poor at the best of times. My advice is ... tick the few "woody" birds you need and then leave them alone. And I don't go up mountains any more because I'm old and knackered. Seriously ! When I used to go birding in N. Ireland during " The Troubles" there were lots of places I simply couldn't go to .... they were too dangerous. There's a bird reserve on the outskirts of Belfast that can catch you out... if you take a wrong turn at the roundabout you suddenly find yourself in a "sectarian enclave" where huge musclebound blokes stride shirtless through the mean streets, and every flat surface has giant English flags and huge murals of hooded rifle-toting thugs, and all the pavements are painted red white and blue. We'll say no more about them. You just turn the car round sharpish and get out. Eek. Benacre Broad was a bit of a "Snettisham" for years ..... but that's another, happier story. No doubt there's places you don't go either. I hope I'm not the only one. Anyhow, enough of gloom and doom. Here's Top Spanish band Vetusta Morla and the remarkable "La Deriva" He tenido tiempo de desdoblarme
Y ver mi rostro en otras vidas Ya tiré la piedra al centro del estanque He enterrado cuentos y calendario Ya cambié el balón por gasolina Ha prendido el bosque al incendiar la orilla He escuchado el ritmo de los feriantes Poniendo precio a mi agonía Familias de erizos en sus manos frías Habrá que inventarse una salida Ya no hay timón en la deriva Has tenido pulso para engancharme Alistado en ejércitos suicidas Me adentré en el bosque y no encontré al vigía Habrá que inventarse una guarida No quiero timón en la deriva Cada cual que tome sus medidas Hay esperanza en la deriva Habrá que inventarse una salida Que el destino no nos tome las medidas Hay esperanza en la deriva
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AuthorThat's the author up there ... I was young and sprightly then. Archives
October 2022
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