MY friend the kingfisher shot past me as I sat on the bench near the old Dog and Duck ferry one day this week.
I make no apology for eulogising this dramatically tinted bird.
The poet W H Davies memorably recorded that such a creature could only have been born of the rainbow. However, his observation didn't stop 19th Century ladies wearing stuffed kingfishers in their hats. This is not a set of Victorian values I'd like to return to, thank you very much.
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