Egads it’s cold out there. Probably not as cold in terms of the temperature as last Thursday – although the geese this morning were standing on the pond outside my office, instead of bobbing about in it – but taking into account the wind chill plenty cold enough. Especially on a bike. In fact, you don’t really know the meaning of the word wind chill until you’ve felt it flowing over your gloved hands and up the sleeves of your jacket. I try and tell myself it would be colder if I wasn’t on my bike and walked instead, but I’m not so sure. When the wind rounds a corner and buffets you sideways with an icy blast, pretty much anything would feel like an improvement.
But it’s not the east wind that’s massacring the bird population round here. Heading up to Lambeth North Tube the other day we noticed not one but three pigeons squashed on the junction with the Kennington Road. Three! How stupid do pigeons have to be that the second and third don’t get out of the way when they see the first one get it? Or do you think the later two were simply feasting on their fallen comrade when the second blow fell? In which case, why did it stop at three?