'I remember well my first Bewick's swans, which I bumped into one November day not far from home. They looked at me, unsure whether or not to fly into the fog, as I tried to get as close as I dared. ... What is it, exactly, that can, many years later, recall such emotionally charged birding moments so vividly to mind? I can't really remember my birthdays at all, but my first green woodpecker and my first jay are firmly embedded. And with some of these things, the place it happened is equall...






















