Song Thrush Outside the Pavilion

Spot the bird! (answer below)

(This was in January)

I don't have much to do at the moment so I've been wandering around town quite a lot, and I've been writing down the interactions I have with people I don't know. Today I went to a café to do some reading. It was quite a gloomy part of the café and I was disappointed because the man sitting next to me had claimed the seat with the reading lamp, even though I was before him in the queue. I asked him if I could scooch the reading lamp along to my side of the table, seeing as he didn't seem to be using it. He didn't mind, but he was a bit surprised that I was happy to just move the furniture around.

The lamp gave me a tremendous amount of light for my reading. I didn't stay for very long though. I went into the Pavilion Gardens. I was going to use the public toilet but it was closed. One of the homeless people outside it told me that a tree had fallen on the roof and that was why it was closed. I looked up and saw the offending tree looming over a taped-up window. About ten seconds later, a bedraggled hippy dressed in soldier gear said something to me as I was walking past him. I didn’t hear, but instead of ignoring him, I turned round and begged his pardon. He repeated what he had said, which was: 'have you seen any monkeys in the tree?' I'm not sure if he was talking about the tree that broke the roof of the toilets. I said no. ‘Any parrots?’ he said. I said no, and laughed and carried on.

I continued round past the front of the Pavilion, paid a £50 note into the bank, and went to the bus stop. The bus was going to be another five minutes so I decided to walk at least some of the way.

Just past the bus stop, I heard a song thrush calling from the trees. Song thrushes are fairly common, but when I first heard their piercing motifs, it sounded to me just like something from a rainforest scene, and, as often happens when you first start birdwatching, I thought it was something rare. Now, they don’t stop me in my tracks in quite the same way, but this one caught my attention and I let it keep it. I let the moment be serendipitous. I hadn’t waited for the bus; instead I had taken this little walk, and that choice had created this reality of this song thrush and my participation and appreciation of it.

It performed some particularly synthy glissandi that really made me gasp and smile. I took out my phone and filmed it, mainly so I could record the song. But I think I missed the best bits (it’s always the way). It happened to be a very picturesque scene with the Pavilion all lit up and silhouetted in the pink and blue sunset, and the ice rink with its festive lights in the background, but what interested me was just a tiny black shadow on a branch.

I wondered if other people even noticed the song. They must’ve done. But did it seem out the ordinary? Maybe it just blended into the exotic atmosphere of the Pavilion with its palm trees and palatial domes.

I had been thinking about what parts of life are important to capture. What parts are the ones that people make into poetry and songs and books? I thought about this moment, about how special it is to hear birds singing in the winter (why are they doing it?), and how maybe this is one of those important moments. I had actually been feeling very directionless, and seeing/hearing the song thrush outside the Pavilion, though it didn't exactly solve my problems, reminded me about the kind of feelings I should be looking for.