I was never really expecting an area two minutes walk from London Liverpool Street to be an improvement on Tower Bridge, and it isn't. Five work days in and the office list stands at 2 - the ubiquitous feral pigeons and a single Herring Gull dive-bombing tourists. I have seen a small brown bird land in one of the small brown trees planted in the area. It was Sparrow/Robin/Dunnock/Goldfinch/[Insert Rare Warbler Here] sized and shaped, which probably tells you just how good a view I got as it hid behind branches and flitted from tree to tree. Looks like I'll be fighting for every morsel on this patch.
Tuesday was interesting though. Got a very unusual bird. Parus has been trying to convince me that it dazed itself by flying into a building which is why it's not flying and that it's alright to tick it. I have my own personal theory that Carluccios like their ingredients particularly fresh. Either way, it drew quite a crowd.
No apologies for the soundtrack. Not only is Night on the Bare Mountain an excellent piece of music, the alternative was some woman whinging about how they should call the RSPCA and how it's pathetic that they're trying to catch it themselves (incidentally they HAD called the RSPCA, as she would have known if she'd bothered to ask, and had been told if the bird wasn't injured they wouldn't turn up). It's this kind of randomness that makes Central London worth the hassle.
Oh, and this kind of randomness.