Steven's Blog - August 2008

Steven Lamb is our resident host at River Cottage HQ (Park Farm), and is involved in our whole range of courses and events on a daily basis.

Homing pigeons have made several significant yet short appearances throughout my life. Like a fleeting cameo role by a reputable actor in an independent movie, they arrive literally out of the blue to deliver a significant message and then they are off; and somehow, by the sheer fleetingness and gravitas of the delivery it transcends into something more meaningful.

The first occurrence happened a long time ago and wasn’t even in 3-D. It came from a cartoon in a boy’s annual that I had received as a Christmas present. I can’t remember the annual but can clearly recall the page of cartoons, most of which showed characters shipwrecked on a tiny island with a single palm tree on it. Each cartoon had a lame joke concerning a ‘message in a bottle theme’, along the lines of

“The post arrived early this year!”

I can assure you that even at the tender age of seven that none of the ‘jokes’ felt particularly funny. All, except one which used to crack me up every time. I don’t think there is much merit in trying to describe the cartoon here in its entirety because that isn’t the point but in short it shows an angry man shouting at a messenger pigeon for being late with the post and the pigeon casually replies

“It was such a nice day so I thought I’d walk.”

I loved the thought of the pigeon ambling along when it could have been flying and looking back as an adult I am particularly tickled by the fact I appreciated that the pigeon had the capacity to make an evaluation of the situation.

So from then on, I imbued homing pigeons with a sense of fun and freedom as well as an air of independence. Perhaps one wouldn’t do too badly to adopt a similar attitude, perhaps that’s why I’m not a particularly high flyer (or humorous)?

The second significant homing pigeon incident caused me to move south. I had the opportunity to do a summer job in Brighton but wasn’t really sure if it would be a good thing and hadn’t spent that much time away from the comforts of home. I was mulling it over for weeks without any resolve until one day I was woken up by a scratching on my bedroom window. I opened the curtains to find a white racing pigeon with ringed feet clinging to the glass. It was casually hovering there as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. As if making use of the window sill would weaken the message. I don’t know if it was the early hour or the surprise of seeing such a strange spectacle but I could’ve sworn that the bird began talking directly to me. Instead of a normal ‘cooing’ noise that one can easily associate to a pigeon, there was a distinct and clear ‘Brigh…ton, Brigh…ton’. That was enough for me, when birds’ talk you have to listen and so I spent the summer by the sea. I later moved and made my home there because of the good memories of that particular time although my fondness for birds didn’t extend to seagulls.

It had been a while since the last homing pigeon episode. Not that I’m constantly on the lookout you understand it just happens to be one of those strange occurrences that punctuate my life at reasonably significant times. I can, by the way, make decisions without the need for a talking pigeon. It just makes it seem a better decision if I am wing assisted.

Well last week I had two major decisions to make. The sort of decisions that change your life and if there ever was a time to get some avian divination it was then. I waited for the signs but nothing came. Maybe it was time to fly solo on this one and so I decided that yes I would take that new job and yes I would move house in order to do it. I felt confident as I walked down the path to Park Farm on my way to the meeting where I would tell my employers of my decision and very soon after, it was all over. I had made my mind up and now everyone knew which felt quite a relief.

It wasn’t until a few days later that the first homing pigeon arrived and the following day came the second. I encountered the first homing pigeon sat on a beam above my desk in the River Cottage office. I even managed to hold it in my hands in order to take it outside and place it by food and water. The second was less brazen but equally as meaningful. It walked towards me on the path down to the barn and gave me a nodding sideways glance before giving me a very deliberate pigeon wink. I swear it’s true and it is my belief that even though they appeared a short time after my decisions were made it has served as a sign that they are correct. Maybe they had encountered nice weather and decided to walk to Park Farm.

Who knows?

Viewing a situation in conventional terms can sometimes create problems which don’t actually exist. I know this. But doing the right thing and being true sets things in flight and means you can always come home to roost.

So I’m going to be an organic smallholder and live the good life.

I already have a close supporting circle of friends to guide me, people I trust, even more than pigeons but would be grateful to anyone reading this who can pass on any useful hints, tips or even just share their own experiences. All information will be gratefully received.

Oh by the way, I move into the Farmhouse at Park Farm at the end of the month.