I was on the Norfolk coast yesterday, walking, having tea and coffee, taking time to share ideas in the way only possible on a walk, and birdwatching, of course. One of the few occasions when I completely forget political economy is when I have a pair of binoculars to my eyes.
The bird that dominated the day was the curlew. A number of them offered quite amazing views of their stunning beauty and one in flight shared its distinctive song. Posting this video is my reflection on a great autumn afternoon, with sentiments I share.
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He asked, what country could destroy such a bird. The answer is one dominated by neoliberalism
Precisely
It’s the song that captures my imagination because I’ve heard them more than I’ve seen them. The first time I heard one was walking along the Pocklington Canal in Yorkshire in the mid 1990’s. Contrasting it with other bird song in this country it is quite remarkable.
I’ve heard and seen a fair few on the moors around Derbyshire and Staffordshire since then and Scotland and Wales too.
It’s an eerie, other worldly sound that belies the look of the bird that emits it. You don’t hear them every day and the only thing that trumps it is hearing a Bittern which is much rarer.
I’m lucky to see curlew quite often – I will be out again this morning and might, much nearer to home this time
But bittern, that’s a few times a year if I am lucky
The curlew’s call is so haunting and evocative. Used to be a pretty common sound in the Scottish Borders, but much less so now – experiencing them right now at Aberlady though…
Thanks for sharing that Richard.
Evocative and nostalgic memories of my time in Sheffield and wonderful walking on the surrounding moors.