Yesterday, I took a stroll to the Royal Baths. It's a full circle for me, since I first came to them in 2006 in the dead of winter (also in the evening.) I find them more enjoyable in the winter, covered in snow, since the people that usually come are smartly dressed and there are far fewer of them than in summer. The downside is that the botanical gardens are closed.
Some lovely couple asked me how to get to Belweder, which I was obliged to give. As a man, I naturally derive pleasure from two sources: A. Getting to a destination without asking directions (doubly if the route is inadequately marked.) B. Providing directions to others (especially when you're a bit of a stranger there yourself.) I was patting my back about it all the way around the pond.
There is no lack of fowl in the Baths this time of year. Aside from the common pigeon, the ever-present peacocks, and the ducks, many other birds are making noise in the canopy of the trees. I must admit, since I'm in Europe I do miss the call of the chickadee. Maybe some other bird in the Tit family (yes, there is a family of birds call tits) can fill that small, fluffy void. The birds that are citizens of the park show little fear to humans and meander right up to them in search of a meal. They make the swans and geese in the Boston Public Gardens look shy and bashful. A pair of ducks and some pigeons saddled right up to me, looking for a handout (I disappointed them, I'm afraid.)
One of the couples strolling along the paths.
From the Palace on the Lake.
Feeding the some of the many peacocks. The woman and child were as brightly colored as the birds.