Summary
FROM my first footsteps I've tracked rivers. I was lured by the loop and dart of blue damselflies, the chortle of gravels and the silky sink of silt. I grew to be an avid I-Spy kid and soon ticked off most of the creatures in these pocket nature guides. But the kingfisher eluded me. As is the way with things denied, my ambition to see this fabulous bird grew and grew. It has taken me years to realise that too much intent makes them disappear.
The bird's colours and dumpy outline were tattooed on my mind a little larger than life-size. This didn't prepare me for their speed and elusiveness.See the full content of this document
Extract
Greyhounds, Binoculars and the Art of Seeing Kingfishers
A bright blur. A brilliant tease was my first experience of a kingfisher. I braked so sharply I almost went over my handlebars, over the parapet of the bridge and down into the dark waters of the Lugg. I watched, waited for a second streak; scoured the alder leaves f...
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