It’s a sweltering evening in Cafe Oto – a Dalston jazz cafe somewhere between the shadow of the Balkans and the plains of New Mexico. A Hawk and a hacksaw are from one of these far flung locations and, in many ways, they sound like they’re from the other – but with the sweat...
Read more »
Safely installed in his cosy nest, Brian’s been musing on how great his winged neighbours are. Birds are a splendid bunch – lots of them sing (although admittedly with varying levels of success), some of them are darned attractive (Mr Peacock, we’re looking right at you) and some of them are just utterly fascinating...
Read more »
