Weather is beyond terrible for running...much needed rain, but nasty rain nonetheless, rain that liquifies my country running routes into thick gloop, rain that chills me, rain that fills my eyes with aciding spray, sulfur dioxide contamination, power station and suga factory sky effluent.
So, my nature watching has been out of windows. The museum cafe window mainly. Er, only.
But that's not to say I haven't seen some interesting things. Yesterday, I was reading Excession by Ian Banks and sipping tea, and onto the glorious rusty dredger barge on the opposite side of the river landed a bedraggled, but still magnificent Heron, symbol of the rugby club, eyes full of malice for fish.
Although it looked like a frog he caught today, struggling hopelessly in its sharp beak.
Today there was a cormorant, stubby, neck outstretched and wings flapping mightily. It was trying to fly upwind, into this freezing breeze, and making no headway as its wings beat the air frantically and its head seemed to be drawing its neck further out from its spine. But it was going nowhere.
It gave up, turned downwind and in two seconds was a hundred yards away. It turned back into the wind, wings beating the air frantically, head drawing its neck further out from its spine.
Still nowhere. And still nowhere everytime it tried it.
I know how it felt.