That's worrying

A READER tells me he was puzzled by the weather forecaster who said the sun would shine but on the other hand, it might be cold. He decided to wear one glove.

RADIO 4 has been making a big fuss about the joys of birdsong at daybreak. I have always suspected that people who get all weepy and sentimental about the birdies are sitting in comfortable homes or warm offices listening to a neatly-edited version of the twittering at a respectable hour. I am just back from my annual few nights under canvas at a sailing rally. When you are actually out there among the little blighters (who incidentally started their racket at 3.36am precisely) there is no “dawn chorus,” merely “them bloody birds.”

I GUESS that only a small percentage of birds can produce anything resembling a song. I had a massive crow outside my tent, bellowing “Grork! Grork! Grork!” endlessly. What is chorus-like about that? I have heard more tuneful cows. Nature could be greatly improved with some sort of quality control.

THE Guardian reports on a group of volunteers dedicated to exterminating “alien” grey squirrels in order to help Britain's native red squirrels survive. I can only report that our visitors from Germany last week were enchanted by the plump yet agile grey squirrels doing their usual acrobatics in our garden. Back home in Bavaria they have only “boring little red ones”

STILL on nature, did we all see Chris Packham jokingly slip a sly reference to sado-masochism into Springwatch (BBC2)? He offered to take fellow presenter Martin Hughes-Games to a club where he could experience the exquisite pain of a mouse bite. Naughty boy.

IT was 50 years ago today, or thereabouts, that The Beatles gave us the Sergeant Pepper LP. Five of us lads aged 16 or so gathered at a friend's attic with a big bottle of cider and a brand new copy of the LP. We played it over and over, realising pop music would never be the same again. Four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire. Who would have thought it? And who ever imagined that half-a-century would pass so quickly? In my days lecturing young journalists planning their careers, I would warn them that the years between 20 and 30 last about 20 minutes. What I should have added is that after 30, time really speeds up.

MAYBE it's because the last one was only two years ago, but isn't this proving to be the most boring general election ever? I have a sneaking suspicion that when it's all over the share of seats in the Commons will be much the same as before and we'll be on course for the sort of Brexit I predicted more than a year ago. They will tell us we are Out, but it will feel suspiciously like In.

AT a time when the NHS is trying to cope with unprecedented rates of depression, anxiety and stress, a poll reveals that 60 per cent of Britons are anxious about the NHS. Now, that's worrying.