There was

There was a bird I'd heard of, but never seen, a bird neither large nor rare, but somehow representing spring, and I hoped to see it in Britain. As it turned out, I did. With an hour before our train shot out of Saint Pancras, Won Sun and I walked from Bill's house to the southeast corner of the Regent's Park. It was wet, though hardly torrential. The narcissus were handsome; there were blooms on flowering trees; wood pigeons and magpies walked across the lawn. And then, from a tall tree, a voice I knew could belong to neither of the sauntering birds. A minute later, a whir of blue: yes! The blue tit had appeared.