Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Thursday, 20 June 2013
The pheasant of the train station
I have recently discovered something about one of the train stations on my commute. It is the one right after the station of my town. There is a pheasant on the station, twaddling along the platform. I am unable to identify which kind, all I know is that it is a pheasant. It is not as impressive as the fearless cats on the railway at my stop, but pheasant are more elusive than cats, in such environment anyway. I don't know if it is always the same one. There is a lot of trees and shrubs by the rails, so plenty of birds could be hiding there. The pheasant shows up in the morning sometimes, or in the evening, always safely away from the commuters (just like the cats), right at the end of one of the platforms. The pheasant' station is bigger than the cats' station. It makes for something else to look forward during my commute, another little something that makes life.