Back at flat, curled up on the sofa with the panther watching the tennis. It’s the ATP Masters event at the O2 and for some reason the floor is blue. Wawrinka vs Berdych. The players’ shoes squeak on the floor. There isn’t the beautiful thud of the ball on grass but the sounds of tennis still soothe: the thump as the ball connects with the strings. The commentators’ voices are calming. Is better than listening to the panther anyway. He dozes, head on massive paws.
Writing this now as am attempting to stay awake for the rest of the daylight but Berdych isn’t helping: he’s letting Wawrinka run away with the match. 6 – 1 and 3 – 1 to Wawrinka so far.

Spent some time chatting to the new chap yesterday. He is a bird watcher. Let’s call him Twitcher. Happen to know a bit about birds – it’s wading ones who are his best ones.
“Did you see Autumnwatch?” I say. “There were snipe and water rails and oystercatchers.”
“I’m gutted I missed it,” Twitcher says.
If we meet up we can talk about birds and am excited about that. Maybe will show him my kookaburras in the park? He has mentioned meeting: let’s hope it happens…


3 thoughts on “Wetlands

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