Tuesday, July the 6th, 2004

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And No Birds Sing

Or do they? Here at Hooting Yard we have taken on a new member of staff to assist us in all matters ornithological. The interview process was exhausting, possibly because our recruitment advert, by some mishap, appeared in Bee People magazine instead of Jobs For The Bird-Obsessed, our publication of choice. That misunderstanding dealt with, we questioned what in the name of heaven had persuaded us to hold the selection process in the annexe of a House Of Sortilege & Magick hard by the banks of a tempestuous river on the point of bursting its banks, fourteen miles from the nearest railway station. We eventually appointed Jim Pond, a man with a blue hat and dozens of library tickets, who suggested that his first contribution ought to be some birdsongs: the lapwing, the curlew, and quite alarmingly, the carrion crow. Jim has now gone off to join the Richard Milhous Nixon Memorial Sweatlodge, and it is unclear if he is ever coming back.