Sometimes, it is easy being green

Shortly after I arrived here, I was walking with Sara, and heard a strange squawk above us. Glancing up, three long-tailed birds with green feathers and rose beaks flew overhead.

Here be parakeets. Green, ring-necked parakeets, to be precise.

There are several major colonies here in suburban south London. By last year, their numbers were estimated at 40,000.

As to the how, there are various urban myths: parakeet couples escaping from quarantine; of Jimi Hendrix releasing birds in the 1960s in an attempt to jazz up the grey. But the birds have been bred in the UK since the late 19th century, so they probably just got into wild, and discovered they were unperturbed by the winter chill.

Whatever their origin, their green does lush the place up!

Friday 13th

On Friday, the lovely Sara took an impromptu half-day and we decided to head out for the afternoon :-)

I had planned to visit the Natural History & Science museums (mostly for present-shopping purposes): little did I realise the effect of School Holidays... We abandoned the Natural History upon seeing the queue, and snuck in as far as the shop in the Science museum. And there I wriggled through the crowd, trying not to freak out. Shopping achieved, we took refuge in the myriad delights of the V&A: a half-scone devoured by Hitchcockian pigeons; paddling folk (including Sara); Eleanor of Aquitaine's effigy; and the Small Spaces exhibition which was dotted through the museum.



Then it was time to head for Brompton Cemetery, which dates back to 1840. We were attending the annual Dr Death lecture in the chapel (hosted by the extremely welcoming Friends of Brompton Cemetery). The talk was supposed to be sepulchral symbolism, but Dr Death's laptop exploded (in Friday 13th fashion), and his back-up talk was on the Victorian relationship to death (black plumes, black plumes, everywhere). I really enjoy old graveyards, and this place, after hours of darkness and rain, was suitably atmospheric. Lovely walk around.



The wackiest part of Brompton was its avid supporters. Someone came up to Sara with the opener: 'Don't I know you from Kensal Green cemetary?' Apparently there's an entire circuit of cemetery folk...