Adopt a languid pace

London teems with peacocks, soaking up the sights and the rare English sun. Frustrated ravens and kingfishers weave between them, hurrying ahead, too caught up in their internal mindscape to adopt a languid pace and take in the urbanscape.

The RSPB have set up camp at the base of the Millennium Bridge. Above our heads perch real live peregrine falcons, high up on the Bankside Tate chimney. A dozen telescope eyes wink in the light, focussed on the predators, and passers-by stop to have a gander, chuffed to see real wildlife. The grown-ups duck down and crane their necks to see the birds through the scopes. Their kids flock together and lark about. The older teenagers brood, grouse and snipe. A bald old coot is bending the ear of anyone who stands still too long, regaling them with the feeding and breeding habits of the birds above. The RSPB have a stand decked in bunting where they hawk their wares: annual membership £36; cuddly toy peregrines £7. A young child holds one in her clutch, her mum quails at the prospects of tears and pulls out her purse.

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