Yet another of the old horse chestnut trees in Clissold Park is starting to peg out. On the south side, near the route of the buried New River, this tree always dominated that section of the park. Now, though, while the sides of the tree are still verdant and healthy, the whole middle part appears to be dying - the leaves are thin or non-extistent. It looks like it's had a monk's haircut. It's a Ralph Coates tree - actually, a Terry Mancini tree would be a more accurate description. Other old trees in that part of the park - I think the former Newington Common - seem to be on their last legs as well. Is this anything to do with the work to reduce the groundwater in the area? Maybe the trees liked it when it was boggy round there.
Is this Spring?
Yesterday - 7th January - I saw the first ladybird of Spring. It landed on the screen of my Imac while I was checking the latest Premiership table. Then the phone rang. It was a woman from the Alliance and Leicester asking if I'd like a loan. They're pissed off with me because I recently paid off the balance on my credit card and are trying strong-arm tactics to get me back on the high interest bandwagon. After I'd told her to get lost I went back to play with my new insect friend. But the ladybird had gone.
It rained all day today. Various little streams have appeared in the roads, all pouring down the Hackney Brook valley at different points. The two biggest run down Green Lanes and diagonally North-East through Clissold Park towards Grazebrook Road. I was splashing about in one of them when a car horn hooted and a woman leaned out of the window, fag in mouth, looking at me. I walked over to the car.
- Are you lost?
- What?
- What?
Then she stared past me, up at the block of flats accross the road, and blew smoke on my waterproof.
Fox Rodent Hybrid Nut Fiends
A mother is walking through the park with a small boy following behind, dribbling a football. A squirrel runs across their path.
"I used to see red squirrels when I was little," says mum. The boy isn't listening. He's doing commentaries to himself as he jogs along.
" There were lots of them at my Auntie Jo's house," she says. The boy kicks the ball against the fence and makes a crowd noise. His mum sighs.
"They're mostly grey squirrels now."