What's your Stringfoot Sunday? How London Pigeons saved the day

A couple of weeks ago, I literally skipped out of the house. I was on my way to my first face-to-face interviews since the beginning of lockdown.

I was in a chatty mood, so the London cabbie that got my fare was my first victim, I mean respondent, of the day. On our 20-minute journey, I questioned him to within an inch of his life. I pretty much had his entire life story by the time he dropped me off at the viewing facility.

But a little bit of my buoyancy was taken during the journey. Autumn and raining, typically he would have been in great demand. Instead he’d waited for nearly 2 hours outside St Pancras station for his fare. He told me he’s averaging between 5-10 fares per day and that’s by sticking it out on a 12-hour shift. Yet, he says, he’s one of the lucky ones. His wife is earning, and they can just about get by. Many black-cab drivers are not so lucky.

I left feeling glad I’d been time-pressed enough to take a cab rather than walk. And I was here and ready for the day ahead. Back in a viewing facility, back in the game.

After being briefed on the Covid rules and regulations, I set about getting myself ready for the afternoon and evening of interviews. Disinfected from head to toe, visor on, seated 2 metres away from my prospective respondents and grinning like a Cheshire cat, the interviews began. I was so happy to see a real, ‘in-the-flesh’ respondent and so the day ticked by.

Job done, insights gathered, I packed up late that evening. But I was conscious that the happiness of the day had been replaced by a melancholy that I couldn’t shake off. In addition to all the project learnings, I now held in my heart the grassroots impact of this pandemic.

The 18-year-old student, on a less than impressive gap year, with ‘nothing much to do but stay home and watch TV’. The highly anxious first time Mum, who had barely left the house to ensure her family is kept safe and sound. The fiercely intelligent young woman who has moved back to her childhood home as she’s unemployed and has little chance of finding a job. A family man who has dedicated his life to arts & culture, pretty sure his beloved role at a London museum will be gone very soon. His fears for the arts & culture sector in London and beyond was a sobering listen.

I headed back to my hotel with all my oomph gone. Despondent about life living with this pandemic.

But fate plays a wonderful part in this story. One of my respondents had cancelled that day. So the next day a replacement was found and we met at the viewing facility early afternoon.

The usual introductions got going, including the inevitable discussion about life with Covid and the impact it has had on life. And yes, there had been difficulties, but the overriding message was one of joy and coming from the most unexpected place… London pigeons!

During lockdown, this lady had joined Stringfoot Sunday – a group of people dedicated to looking after the feet of London pigeons (it’s an urban plight apparently). I learnt that ‘resourceful’ urban pigeons in the absence of twigs, straw and hay, use string, wire and human hair to build their nests. The problem is these materials become entangled in their toes (do pigeons have toes?) and often lead to constriction and infection. Stringfoot Sunday is a rescue service to liberate the feet and toes of pigeons.

I was captivated by my respondent’s passion for her weekly mission, the obvious happiness it gave her, and deeply thankful for reminding me that there are positives we can take from this pandemic.

She left me wondering what was my Stringfoot Sunday equivalent?

- Quality time with the family? Hmm, I’ll go for the quality but perhaps not the quantity!

- Badly painted watercolour landscapes, done with no skill but a great big dollop of enthusiasm?

- Website writing, I’ve done two in lockdown and feeling pretty proud of both of them?

All valid, all a product of this pandemic.

But my Stringfoot Sunday would be starting to blog. I didn’t know I had it in me and I blooming love it! And it turns out other people do too.

So when this pandemic gets too much, as it often does. Take a little time to think ‘What’s my Stringfoot Sunday?’

It might just make you feel a little brighter.

Please share your 'Stringfoot Sundays' in the comments box