Here I learnt the story of the kingfisher. He has watched this stream rise and fall, empires of minnows with it. Here, at dawn, the deer come to drink and gossip and speak of where to find the most perfectly ripe buds. Here, the dragon and damselflies whizz and flit, landing hither and thither, dazzling all but the kingfisher with their glitter. Here, where it is always a degree or two warmer, silent people come and sit quietly with their breath, watching the play of light on water. The kingfisher remembers a time when there were thousands of his kin living along the full course of this stream. A time of bustling minnow empires, the occasional trout, and when the stream floor was covered in turquoise and emerald pebbles. This was the time before the miners came and left the stream with nothing but a golden, sandy blanket for a floor.
Once upon a time, there were feathers dangling like this everywhere. They were suspended at different levels, so you’d never know where on your body you might get tickled. Some people were so sensitive to it, that they spent their lives crawling on their bellies. Those people eventually evolved into snakes and other low lying reptiles. Back then, the species that didn’t have fur used to map all their journeys to maximise feather tickling. They’d often develop elaborate dances and take the extra long way, just to pass by their favourite feather or two. Things were better for people then, because capitalism didn’t exist, and no one lived or worked in a cubicle. People just twisted and turned through forests of feathers before getting on with whatever it was that needed doing. People twirled much more back then. They would stick their arms out wide, tip their heads back, and turn.
One of the most beautiful things about nature, is that it forces you to reevaluate what you think you know. For instance, when I moved into my flat, I bought a large rug for my living room. Or rather, I should say I *thought* I bought a large rug for my living room but it turns out that it wasn’t a rug at all. It was actually a large, floor-based, cat scratching pad. Silly me! What did I know in the face of such obvious feline determination to demonstrate how wrong I was. Similarly, the Lidl was recently selling what I believed to be a small bird feeder which sticks on your window. As I have a flock of goldfinches living in the trees by my flat, I naively thought I could use this “small bird feeder” to attract these beautiful little birds closer to my window. So I bought the