Back from Hemingford Grey Manor, the original of Green Knowe, and that deserves a long and thoughtful and amazed post. Which I'm not quite up to at the moment, after two half-pints of cider. So instead I provide a sampling of the pigeons of England. Honestly, pigeons everywhere, in flocks like starlings, inside train stations, all over churches as if they were auditioning for a John Woo film, pecking around the street markets, everywhere.
This is at Dane John tower, part of the walls of Canterbury. An arrow slit, the perfect size for a pigeon hole.
This is part of the overhang of the roof at the Peterborough train station. There's a whole series of spaces on the inside, with a walkway--pigeon size--along the interior. Thoughtful of British Rail, isn't it?
Cambridge, a statue on the outside of one of the colleges. When I first noticed the pigeon, it was roosting on the statue's wrist, pretending to be a hawk. By the time I had the camera out, it was wandering around the wig and had met a friend.
Just for a change--gulls! And can you guess why the first pic is on here?
4 comments:
You ate a pigeon!! Or was it called "squab"?
;)
Pigeon breast, according to the menu, with a poached egg above, on a bed of black pudding and cress.
Really yummy black pudding, I think toasted a bit to give it crunch.
Pigeon is not quite as gamey as duck, but definitely more flavour & texture than chicken, even free-range chicken.
Bleh! I hate black pudding, and I ate it not knowing what it was, so it's not just the thought of what it actually is.
And this is another post that's getting spammed. Away all spammers! And take your dubious medications with you!
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