The Common Cormorant or Shag...

The Common Cormorant or Shag…

Saw a cormorant beside the canal as I cycled along. It was doing that wings-akimbo thing that they do, which someone once told me was keeping the glare off the water so that they can see fish easier. If that’s the case then he had been badly advised; you can find many things in the Paddington Branch of the Grand Union Canal (including, recently, a body in a suitcase) but not many fish. We do, though, see a surprising variety of birds round here.

Herons often pass unnoticed simply by standing so still; dusk or dawn seems to be the most likely time to see them, and clearly they wouldn’t bother if there were no fish for them to harpoon, but this particular stretch is not popular with them; you see them more often on the island in Browning’s Pool.

I once saw a sparrowhawk on the grass between the tower blocks and the canal, who was, I think, eating a pigeon, but much as I would love them to set up home on one of the tower blocks (like the peregrine falcons at Charing Cross Hospital) I think he was only a casual visitor.

It’s odd that we don’t seem to have ring-necked parakeets on Westbourne Green, despite their presence very nearby. They are all over Kensington Gardens, which is less than a mile away, and there’s almost a corridor of trees connecting us, but the Westway is in the way, so perhaps that deters them. On the other hand, I’m sure I have heard them north of the canal, so perhaps they’ll come in that way; I gather that the peregrines find them tasty down in Fulham.

Go-Fast Stripes

Also seen while cycling, this time on Elgin Avenue, a tall young woman in long black robe and white hijab, bouncing a basketball. I was particularly impressed that her robe had a red side seam, which clearly functioned as a sort of go-fast stripe (as on 1970s motorcars). A sports abaya; a good thing to see. 

The Power of Legend

Today, the young man from the bakery asked me whether it was true that there was a secret tunnel linking St.Peter’s to the pub opposite. It is quite extraordinary how many times I have been asked this. People recognise that this can’t involve the current church (built in 1974) but perhaps the demolition of the old building has just served to give legs to the mystery. Both church and pub were originally built around 1870, and it was open fields before that, but no-one seems to ask why you would build such a tunnel at such a time.

We had a similar story when I was a country parson in Cornwall, but then both buildings were medieval, so it was a little less outlandish, though there was still no evidence that it was true. It seems to be something about the romance of old buildings, and people’s desire to invest the mundane with excitement. It’s interesting that such tales persist in contemporary London. I suspect the idea that supposedly virtuous clerics had privileged access to a den of iniquity may give spice to the legend, though I really don’t think “The Squirrel” does much in the way of iniquity; it all looks very well-behaved, and in fact I know another parish has had their book club meetings there in the past. Still, legends have their currency in this supposedly rational age.