I tried to save your young life in a Gaza hospital. Now your face haunts me | Seema Jilani The first time you came into my hospital, shards of glass shredding your tiny body, I saved you. The second time I failed As news of the ceasefire ripples my way, my memory mocks me. Your face glides into focus from my mind’s abyss, where I had buried…

I tried to save your young life in a Gaza hospital. Now your face haunts me | Seema Jilani

The censorship algorithm on Twitter reduced our audience by roughly 95%, and seriously, who does that to a wildlife biology & advocacy group ?
So we moved 😇 over here to BlueSky

If you could, please help us regain our following
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Together we can change the world.

Arguably the most beautiful jali screen in the world: Sidi Saiyyed Mosque, 1573-3, Ahmedabad

Does HS2 have a future?

And why does that question hinge on an unseen government document and a sugar mill in Nottinghamshire?

Last time I wrote about HS2, I mentioned there was a government document that had turned my sense of what to do with HS2 on its head

Time to stop teasing. Here it is
assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/u...

And this is what it says, in a picture (plus my thoughts)

But you need context

This is wearing well

First Date    We’d so much in common, that was clear from the start:  a marriage of souls, like de Beauvoir and Sartre.  The connection was instant, almost irrational:  simply simpatico, fully compatible.    You confessed you loved winter, north Yorkshire, and cats.  ‘Me, too!’ I responded. ‘How amazing is that?’   You were wild about Wharton: you loved Ethan Frome.  ‘His best,’ I said, thinking I’d read him when home.     You praised a revival of Pinter’s Dumb Waiter.  I nodded along. I should google that later.  The discussion then turned to things that you hated:  Pulp Fiction, you thought, was quite over-rated.    ‘You make some good points,’ I eventually said.  I could always hide that poster under my bed.   You spoke of a loathing of poetry that rhymed  and I said yes,  that stuff’s awful.  Brian Bilston

Today’s poem is called ‘First Date’.

An illustration from 'Where the Wild Things Are' by Maurice Sendak, showing the Wild Things swinging through the trees.

Two little girls, swinging from a bar, like Wild Things!

My girls, adopted from foster care, arrived with few possessions, apart from a box of books they'd each been given by @Booktrust. These books, read together, became our first shared memories. Spread the joy of reading by donating this Christmas:
www.booktrust.org.uk/xmas