I’d been outside, lying between our car and a neighbour’s, sheltering from the wind and trying to get some sun. I’d packed up my bag of books (a burden that seems to be perpetually with me these days), cushions and mat and was making my way back to the flat when I saw them. It was a chase. A dogfight in the sky. First the rook closely followed by a jay. The jay was evidently in pursuit. They landed, one by one on the roof ahead of me. The rook balanced itself on the guttering and appeared to feign reaching down to drink some water while hopping its body nearer to the rook on the opposite slope. The jay jutted its head forward. I’d never seen one still for such a time. I usually only catch glimpses of them. I waited. Watching. There was no sound between them but they knew what was coming next. The jay was up and then the rook. They swerved and darted. The jay once more the pursuer. And that flash of kingfisher blue…
