A strange thing happened this week. On my way to St Pancras early last Sunday morning, I saw a poor little sparrow lying by my front door. It looked as though he’d fallen right out of the sky. He was dead. Andrew took a photograph not long after I left. Two mornings later, in Paris, I came across a second poor little sparrow under the trees in the Place de Vosges. I took a photograph and hoped there would not be a third.
p.s There are many sparrows in Paris, and almost none in London. I hope he wasn’t the very last one!