In Which I Tell of Storks

There are a lot of storks in this area, because it's close to Africa where they head in the winter, and the weather is very stable from early spring, when they return to breed, to mid-autumn when they go off again. There is also an abundance of the sort of place they like to nest, tall trees, church spires and isolated chimneys, but those things can be found in many places. I think they just like the weather.

There's a place near here, by the river, with a long line of tall trees (poplars, I think, but I'm not too good on trees) where they return to nest year after year in large numbers. Real life calls me away for a few days, but this morning I had time to wander down there to talk a look at them with their chicks. There were dozens of them, circling overhead nervously, pouncing on insects and small mammals in the long grass nearby.

From there I walked beside the river a couple of miles. At one point a 'piara', a group of wild boar, crossed the path in front of me and plunged into the water, disappearing and reappearing among the reeds as they made their way across. They didn't reach the other bank, they will have found a convenient place to hide, drink and maybe eat as well. It's rare to see them during the day (and not at all easy at night, unless you're very patient), I hardly ever come across boar, and I know the area, and especially the farm, is full of them.

A cloudy morning, where the air is warm but heavy, and seems to push back at you as you walk. And it's harder to breathe, because of the unaccustomed humidity.

Now off to Madrid, and reality.