January 3rd – It was at the southern end of the park I first heard it. An insistent, solid, two-pulse, one note, regular cry. Loud, actually, but until now, lost in the traffic noise and windrush. I dropped down into the base of the park and followed the calling. It was very nearly dusk, only the odd hardy dog walker or two around, and the persistent bird call, coming, as it turned out, from the dense copse in the northern hollow. What I think was a little owl (but I’m no expert on bird calls, it was certainly an owl) was calling out for all it was worth. I was in awe. Days of feeling lower than a snake’s knees, and then to hear such a bird a short ride away. Fabulous.

Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007. View all posts by BrownhillsBob