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One day, when I was 13, I burst out of my bedroom like a boy possessed and made for my sister’s room like a whippet. A terrible, cataclysmic thing had happened: I’d just discovered, to my horror, that my copy of the book Alien, an object I cherished beyond words, was not where I had … Continue reading
— On birds, birders and blackbirds — One evening last week I was looking out of the window and was suddenly staggered to find that birds can fly. There they were, just beyond the garden: the crows sweeping low over the contours of the rolling fields with langorous wing beats, alighting with ease amongst the … Continue reading
— The strange world of Alfred Wainwright — A few days ago I watched a BBC documentary called Wainwright: The Man Who Loved the Lakes. For some reason – perhaps it was my mood that day – it seemed a much better programme than when I first saw it a few years ago. It moved … Continue reading