We slept over twelve hours last night and when I woke up I was still sleepy. My voice was recovered but I just wanted down. Nevertheless there’s plenty of island left to share with Lou, and only a limited amount of time. We tried to catch the light.
We went to Grève de Lecq barracks. I wanted to show Lou where we had been with the residency. It’s a powerful part of the island and strong to share. The sounds of the waves in the bay. The power of the wind up the headlands. There’s nature there. It was a strong headquarters for the residency.
Lou and I walked on the beach where I swam every day. I was very struck by how much it resonated with her.
It feels like she understands the beauty of this island, and can see the wild beauty that has always been here through all the crowds of oblivious moneyhumans. It’s a relief. I see potential here, and beauty. If only I had property here. Mum and my uncle sold my grandparents house, and I was always told that it would pass on to me through my uncle’s flat. Turns out that wasn’t the case. Poor Peter died, and who knows what happened to the flat.
Anyway. Right now we have a lovely rental for the duration of the show. I just wish I still had a foothold here as I’m seriously thinking of returning and there’s nothing and property is very expensive…
Lou and I went to Bouley Bay. I have had my eye on the derelict hotel there ever since I reconnected with the island. I love it there. As we walked past Mad Mary’s – (the eccentric tea shack)- we found a half stunned buzzard with what seemed to be a broken wing. Something had happened to it, clearly. It was gallumphing around, and not avoiding us even though we were unpleasantly close and it was bushed in with loads of brambles. Something was clearly wrong.
I didn’t want to get too close to it as picking it up would involve having a chunk taken out of my fingers without gloves. I love and slightly understand birds of prey but I’m not going to pick one up like a pigeon. I called the JSPCA. I got hold of Steve. He’s new on the job. But his job is animal rescue. The JSPCA is underfunded.
Steve showed up. He had big fat gloves and a bird carrier. He went in from the front, and I came round the back so the easy walking escape route wasn’t on the cards for our buzzard friend.
When we all got too close, the buzzard just suddenly thought “fuck this” and flew away.
I had been convinced it had a bad wing. Clearly it had just been stunned by a near miss from a car or something. Steve was like “The majority of bird calls we get, once we get close they fly off. Often they just like to sit there in weird places and look at you until they get too close.”
Steve was brilliant. I’m thrilled we were wrong about the bird. Most people in Jersey don’t give a fuck about animals so come on you non-Jersey legends: help pay Steve for the extent to which he massively cared for that bird when he thought it was injured, and the extent to which he will massively care for genuinely hurt animals he is called to as time goes by.
There goes my little fantasy of saving a buzzard. But I’m so glad it was basically just a bit stunned and hoping it could chill out without somebody trying to bundle it into a basket and fix it.
Donation link to the JSPCA here. I’m gonna help pay Steve’s wage with a donation of my own. But Steve is a great big healthy lad and he loves animals, and he was with me on my pointless call less than half an hour after I first contacted him.
AlBarclay 