Thursday, 29 November 2012


The many jackdaws get up an hour after me, each dropping his sharp call to earth like a dart. There is frost on my car windscreen and the deeply flooded meadow is a scrum of ducks. Two magpies - for joy - row on round wings across a rain dark sky and, coffee in hand, I sit to my laptop to work: mind backwards to Madagascar, mind forwards to Burma, and an eye, always, to the starling scattered sky above my common.

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