The band Raging Slab are a blast from my past, and right now I am listening to their track 'Anywhere But Here'. It prompts me to think of two little birds with whom I have recently become acquainted. Over the last week two fledgling blackbirds have been 'trapped' in the open air corridor between offices in the basement of the Broadcast Centre here at the club. I can only assume that they had attempted their first flight from the nest and ended up down here, not strong enough on the wing yet to be able to fly back out again. No doubt, they'd rather be anywhere but here...
Birds rely one or both parents for their food during the early part of their lives. The parents have toiled tirelessly to bring them worms, berries and insects, bulking out their ruffled feathered bodies, preparing them for the great escape. One of the two was more vocal than its sibling, and so got more food, and by Thursday it had managed to fly to the top of an open door, then on and up, up, up, its wings a beating blur, straining, touch and go as to whether it would make it to the railings on the wall above the corridor. I was delighted to watch it reach its goal, and then immediately saddened as I realized that it meant the other was now on its own, separated, without the warm familiarity of its brother/sister to keep it company. The parents didn't abandon it though, and made many swooping feed runs stopping only to deliver the titbit before zooming up and out to find more sustenance for their little one.
When I came in yesterday morning it had gone, thankfully, and the whole family could go scavenging on the short grass of the courts (I spied all four on Court 14 just before Sharapova came on to practise).
Preparation of the grounds and all that lies within carried on a pace, and although not an actual life or death thing, it could be seen as such in respect of the tournament - without all the hard work of hundreds of people, the club would be devoid of the finery and trappings that dress it for the two weeks ahead. The tournament starts tomorrow, and will wait for no one, fledgling or otherwise. Here are a few shots I have taken whilst taking a break from the computer screen...
- Centre Court.
- Colour tests being performed on the big screen on Centre Court.
- One of the outside broadcast trucks parked up behind the Broadcast Centre, as seen through a glass wall.
- Warning signs on a door under the new Court 2 - you need to be a little brave to enter it seems. I wonder why the first one is in bold type. Is it because that is how most people hurt themselves, and consequently the powers that be felt it a good idea to slightly push the point?
- Chairs stacked together waiting to be assigned to their tables.
- A dirty window under the old Court 2.
- I think they are testing the density of the grass, i.e., how many blades per centimetre. I must check that.
- A progamme seller's booth is washed down ready for Monday.
- Ah, a tennis player! Actually, very possibly the best and most famous one currently. Federer knocks a ball about on Court 14.
Birds rely one or both parents for their food during the early part of their lives. The parents have toiled tirelessly to bring them worms, berries and insects, bulking out their ruffled feathered bodies, preparing them for the great escape. One of the two was more vocal than its sibling, and so got more food, and by Thursday it had managed to fly to the top of an open door, then on and up, up, up, its wings a beating blur, straining, touch and go as to whether it would make it to the railings on the wall above the corridor. I was delighted to watch it reach its goal, and then immediately saddened as I realized that it meant the other was now on its own, separated, without the warm familiarity of its brother/sister to keep it company. The parents didn't abandon it though, and made many swooping feed runs stopping only to deliver the titbit before zooming up and out to find more sustenance for their little one.
When I came in yesterday morning it had gone, thankfully, and the whole family could go scavenging on the short grass of the courts (I spied all four on Court 14 just before Sharapova came on to practise).
Preparation of the grounds and all that lies within carried on a pace, and although not an actual life or death thing, it could be seen as such in respect of the tournament - without all the hard work of hundreds of people, the club would be devoid of the finery and trappings that dress it for the two weeks ahead. The tournament starts tomorrow, and will wait for no one, fledgling or otherwise. Here are a few shots I have taken whilst taking a break from the computer screen...
- Centre Court.
- Colour tests being performed on the big screen on Centre Court.
- One of the outside broadcast trucks parked up behind the Broadcast Centre, as seen through a glass wall.
- Warning signs on a door under the new Court 2 - you need to be a little brave to enter it seems. I wonder why the first one is in bold type. Is it because that is how most people hurt themselves, and consequently the powers that be felt it a good idea to slightly push the point?
- Chairs stacked together waiting to be assigned to their tables.
- A dirty window under the old Court 2.
- I think they are testing the density of the grass, i.e., how many blades per centimetre. I must check that.
- A progamme seller's booth is washed down ready for Monday.
- Ah, a tennis player! Actually, very possibly the best and most famous one currently. Federer knocks a ball about on Court 14.
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