Friday 11th February (Double Figures)

Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom windows onto a calm landscape. The trees were still; pigeons were cooing and the sky was brightening. Below in the street Mr. Kite noticed the pedestrians dressed in cooler clothes than usual. Now the forecast was reasonable and it was the eleventh day of February it was time for shorts. So Mr. Kite packed track suit bottoms into his saddlebag and prepared for a days cycling.

With a hint of sunshine Mr. Kite cycled along the tow path towards the Quarry. The river was inches away and looking a dirty muddy brown and the path itself had residues of mud, silt and branches as a result of the recent floods. Nearing the Quarry Mr. Kite noticed a sizable flock of Goosander swimming against the current. Focusing on the Goosander Mr. Kite started counting the number of Goosander. At sixteen Mr. Kite felt the beast slide and his heart beat increased as he realised he had rode onto a few inches of slippy River Severn mud and was about to fall off. With great skill and desperation he controlled the beast just before crashing into a mud bank. So Mr. Kite then finished the count at nineteen.

Then it was onto Polemere to see Teal, Mallard, Wigeon, Tufted Duck and Shoveler. Just as Mr. Kite was leaving the reserve the sun came from behind a cloud and Mr. Kite sat on the picnic table enjoying the warmth of the winter sun. Once it had hidden itself Mr. Kite headed towards Venus Pool via Condover crossing Cound Brook at the ford at Boreton and then crossing the brook again over the bridge. Just past the cross roads is an artificial pool; lets call it the artificial pool. Here a flock of Greylag Geese were enjoying a secluded spot without the attention of bird watchers; so Mr. Kite left them in peace.

During the past two weeks Mr. Kite had cycled along listening for the the 'rippling chirrup' of a Skylark. Just as Mr. Kite was leaving the artificial pool two Skylarks could be heard singing and looking around he noticed these two birds ascending with wings fluttering rapidly as they climbed skywards from the arable field. The white striped edges of their tails stood out against the streaky brown back of the birds. Skylarks do not seem to fly far from their territory but ascend upwards slowly with rapid wing beats. Every wing movement lifted the bird higher and soon the birds were fifty metres above the ground where they circled, hovered and climbed. These birds circled slowly keeping their height by flapping their wings. Soon after they descended quickly onto the ground. Mr. Kite enjoyed this aerial display of slow controlled flight just above stalling speed.

Mr. Kite was now a happy man as he cycled on to Venus Pool to see the usual birds plus a Great Crested Grebe preparing for the breeding season with a newly grown black crest and chestnut ruff. As yet this pristine male had not been spotted by a female and was floating around on his own waiting for the encounter that would make it worthwhile.

Now being a bird watcher and visiting hides on nature reserves Mr. Kite meets other bird watchers. Today he met a birder who he had spoken to on many occasions; 'the birder with a mum'. Later another birder appeared; 'the birder with long lens on his camera'. Mr. Kite has known this birder a very long time. Being birders the conversation was about birds and what they had seen and hoped to see. Mr. Kite find bird watchers interesting and watches them watch birds.

With the sun appearing more often and for longer it was time for Mr. Kite to go on his travels in the warm air. So it was onto Attingham Park, the Old Canal and Monkmoor Lagoon. Attingham Park had eight Peacocks including two spectacular males who were limbering up and practicing for the mating season. The Old Canal was wet and muddy. Monkmoor Lagoon was Monkmoor Lagoon.

Eventually Mr. Kite arrived home where his 'lady' presented him with a question. "Guess what is in this bag?, she said. Mr. Kite guessed gold, silver, treasure, money, beer, the cat. In frustration she said, "Hold the bag'. Mr. Kite held the bag and knew it contained something dead. Hoping it was the cat Mr. Kite repeated, "Cat". But he knew it was not. No it was a Feral Pigeon that had flown into the Old Market Hall and broke its neck.

Recently Mr. Kite had thought about Feral Pigeons and how we ignore them. So Mr. Kite and his 'lady' admired the metallic green neck and plumage before deciding to burying it in the garden, with some green leaves. So Mr. Kite had made a positive contribution to the Feral Pigeon by burying it with dignity rather than the council scooping it up for the rubbish bin.

Following a natural burial by the Pear Tree Mr. Kite organised a wake to remember the deceased Feral Pigeon where he enjoyed a tipple of Barnsley Beer Company's Nutty Stack. Cheers to 'the lady', the pigeon, and Mother Earth for producing wonders of nature and returning them.