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Chris Packham
Recorded in the New Forest, Hampshire

Charles Avery
Onomatopoeia Harbour Gate, West Tower, with Oarsman
Pencil, ink, acrylic and watercolour on paper

Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

Airborne albatross can spot a vessel from 30km away and will consistently come in for a closer look once they do.

“They’re like drones, only intelligent,” said Weimerskirch.

The fuselage, full of disinfectant, pulsed in the ridged turbulence forty thousand feet in the air. Sent from Brize Norton, its red spill slapped the earth like a knee. For the pilots it was a pleasure to disinfect. Those on the ground, plastic knights armed with nozzles of white lightning, strode through a swarm of flies as the flapping pigeon-winged Albatross chocks. They say we’ll find balm in Gilead, but the Albatross will find nothing at all. I watch the plane seep before it jettisons 74,000 litres of chemical cleanser over everything. The knights look up - I run inside. I hear the liquid land as a bird crashes against my window. Its great white wings left a dust sketch on the glass. I approached the broken beak and mangled mass of feathers. It was clean.

Cyrus Larcombe Moore