I went to Leeds this week. My god it’s changed since my business development days. I was a stranger in a ‘hip’ city full of instrument carrying bearded students wearing converse footwear without socks. I don’t like cities. Too many people. Too much traffic. Too few green places and not enough connection with the real world that should matter; but sadly doesn’t. This was the realm of a disjointed population. A developing culture determined to be set apart from its origins.
As Holly, my daughter, and I walked from the university to her halls of residence I heard familiar noises. It’s like hearing your name mentioned in a crowded room. It stood out. I looked up to see a small gang of Pied Wagtails flutter down from the escarpment of a Victorian facaded building into a sparse ornamental tree being choked at the roots as it bulged the edges of surrounding designer brickwork. The crowds around us oblivious to their presence. Even here nature was taking a stand; trying to compete with the noise of traffic and pushing back the paving. The tree and the wagtails brought a smile to my face.
Holly was just asking me if I thought the name of the nearby café would have been purposely named based on it’s address when I heard another sound. Less familiar … but I recognised it. It took me a little time to locate the Black Redstart calling high above the café. A bird of scree and rocky valleys had found a home here in a concrete and plastic pretence.
A migrant … or even a breeder perhaps?
Letter From Norfolk 
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