In the UK the Winter of 62/63 was pretty brutal for much of the country. Maybe not as harsh as some places in the US but for the UK it was the coldest for a long while. Winter of 1962–1963 in the United Kingdom - Wikipedia
Sometimes it depends how carefully the adult has thought about the rules they place upon the child. I know someone who has told their child (10) they can cycle anywhere they don't have to use or cross a major road. What they haven't considered (and I haven't told them because in most ways they are over-protective) is that within a few hundred yards of their home is the Basingstoke Canal towpath which would allow the child to go 18 miles in one direction and a minimum of 10 the other - probably substantially more as that would put them into the fields and tracks of the Hampshire chalk.
Still, it was better than going up those chimneys eh Ken?
Still, it was better than going up those chimneys eh Ken?
That was the winter I was born - in BMH Singapore - not too chilly! We came home when I was ten months old, missed the 62/63 winter and never ticked any birds in the East.
I picked birding as a hobby when I went to university, so 18 years old. That would have been 1981. First twitch 31 December 1983 (Spoonbill, Red-breasted Goose and Ring-billed Gull, tick tick tick*). 43 years ago...... at least via notebooks I know where the time went!
John
* At one point I counted Spoonbill from August 1970 but I couldn't get it to exact day - it was on a Norfolk Broads boating holiday - and took it off, probably after seeing the December 83 one.
I’ve just checked my first birding notebook- aged 13 I started cycling to Pennington Flash plus taking in Chat Moss. At least 18 mile round trip, mainly along a dual carriageway. I might have words with my Mam next time I see her.
My Mum told us we weren't allowed to cross major roads as well, that just meant we were careful about crossing them when nobody was looking.... Dad - absent due to divorce from when I was about six, access weekends only which brought its own social development problems to me and my brother - was keen that we should be obedient to Mum (bad luck) but his attitude was much more that of Commander Walker from Swallows and Amazons: "Better drowned than duffers if not duffers won't drown".
One of the few things that gave me (and my brother) the heebies about our cycling expeditions was the canal. We were well out of our home area, the Leeds-Liverpool canal is never inviting at the best of times and there was always, as occasionally happened, the possibility of meeting hostile kids/adults hanging around under the bridges.
I believe you did hear a Galah talking, because my husband, Gene, also had a strange encounter with the Galah. Our landfall in OZ was Bundaberg. A few months later we starting walking in the mornings with a group of other yachties from the marina. I had contracted Ross River Fever and for a few days, was unable to even go for a walk. My husband, Gene, still went with the group. One morning I get a knock on the hull and my neighbor announces that a wild Galah had sat on Gene's shoulder. "L" shaped ankles and all, I went up the hatch. Everybody was talking and laughing about the incident. Gene explained that during the walk, a Galah had landed nearby and he said, "Good morning, Mr. Galah. Why don't you come up on my hand and say hello." He put his hand down and the Galah got on it and climbed up his arm to sit on his shoulder. I suspected everybody was having a bit of fun at my expense, but soon realized they were not kidding. I grabbed my bins and despite the stiff ankles and pain, jumped on my pushy and took off to where the event took place. Once again, too late! Here is another photo of a wild bird joining my navigator. This was while we were underway from Egypt to Turkey.What great thread!
I have never counted myself as a true birder, more of an interested party but, much of my early life was spent in the RN so birding was a whole different game, however, it was during that time that I remember noticing some small birds with wonderful yellow wing flashes and when I asked in the section what they were it was the Chief that told me, which surprised me no end. Later during that same career, I started walking to work therefor started noticing that there was life all around us and probably started taking an interest at that point, maybe mid 80's. I was extremely lucky to be sent to Oz for a few months in '88 and that definitely created greater interest for me. I remember trying to convince some locals that I'd heard a Galah talking (true of course) but, went on to state that if more were trained, then released, they'd all be chatting together up there in the trees after no time at all
I think the purchase of my first digital camera around 2010 and living next to a pretty good wildlife pond in S Wales was the real start for me and, according to the good lady, I'm getting worse (better?) or more interested all the time.
I'm out for the great photo of the great bird, if possible.
I loved the winter of 62/63. Right in front of our house was a sledging hill. My Dad made me a small sledge out of electrical conduit. It was super fast and I was out on it almost every day. That hill became a sheet of ice about 4 inches thick😁
Isn't that cool to have that notebook? .... I got into journalling when my kids were young and now journal on a daily basis as I toss in family, birding, photography etc.... Just a record of me.
