Walking back from the vets the other day I was mesmerised again by the sight of a Red Kite, just floating gently around on air currents above the railway tracks. It's amazing how low they come, enough to see all the markings on their wings quite clearly. And in such an urban (well, rural/urban) environment.
Late one night a couple of months back, Missy brought two of the largest chicks I've ever seen into the house. She'd already eaten the wing off one by the time I got to her, so nothing to be done there, but I managed to get the other one away from her. We couldn't figure out for the life of us what this thing was, it was big, like a gosling or a sygnet or something. We ended up ringing St. Tiggywinkles, the local wildlife hospital, and this poor woman volunteer got out of her bed and drove several miles to us, for what turned out to be ..... a baby pigeon.
She was really nice about it, she said that most people wouldn't know a baby pigeon because you simply never see the chicks, normally. They stay in the nest for the entire three months it takes for them to become fully grown, and the nests are invariably in the recesses of buildings rather than trees, so you just don't see them until they emerge looking like a pigeon.
Looking at the chicks, you would never, ever imagine they could turn into pigeons. They have these massive hooked beaks, you'd swear they were some sort of bird of prey.
Apparently they only have two chicks at a time. I kept thinking of poor Mama and Papa, with an empty nest. Although knowing Missy, she probably killed them too.
Ice, you were the one most tender with the rivers.
You, the roof of the waves, layer after layer after layer ...
Please promise me you'll never do any such thing again, your foot might slip or something and .... oh, I can't bear to think of it ..... 
