A buzzard mobbed by crows on a damp October day.
The next station is Watlington.
Starlings swirl like thrown blankets over a fen field and three kestrels quiver.
Mute swans on a banked river.
Canada geese and a heron in the nine centuries shadow of Ely Cathedral.
Onion harvest fills the train with its stench.
The next station is Waterbeach.
King's Cross its usual crush and rush.
The tube. No mice. I'd hoped for mice.
The next station is Hammersmith. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform. Change for the District and Hammersmith and City Lines.
This is a Picadilly Line service to Heathrow Terminals 4 and 1,2,3.
Doors open at South Ealing. A robin's quiet call.
Ash still green but hawthorn yellow. Horse chestnut crisp and caramel with its moth.
This is Boston Manor.
Over fifties brick the starlings swirling here.
LHR4. Turbulence. Charles de Gaulle.
Rabbits (des lapins) by the runway.
Bienvenue en France.