Work is a miserable place, a place of cardboard dust, despondent faces and the mental stench of the willfully ignorant.
But today, as I sneaked into the reserve canteen for a stupid paper cone or three full of water, I saw the familiar fuzzy "Y" shape of a Buzzard soaring.
Only it wasn't soaring, it was too damn cold to find a thermal, the air kept seeming to give way under its wings, so it had to repoint its wings, and turn head on into the wind and actually flap and hover like a kestrel until it tried soaring again, flying in wide spirals but barely gaining any height before going back to hover into the wind.
Eventually, after five minutes, the sun started to come out, and the bird was now repeating this routine much closer to my window. It flew downwind, and I get a fantastic view as it turned and swooped close to the window, white blaze on it's chest and under its wings. And then, it found the thermal, and it spiralled up like a glider.
The only thing that has been worthwhile about the day!
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