21 Nov

A man in the park was feeding the birds.    At first I thought the chirruping was authentic.   Then I saw him, close to Peter Pan, his hand extended, offering them seed.   “They know me,” he said and indeed they did.    Down they came in a small dense flock, chaffinches, robins, who knows what else, and some of them perched on his hand.   A man with a fluffy white beard nearby was quietly sketching the Serpentine ducks.    Who would have thought that we were in central London.



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