When I was about 18 there was an influx of Eastern Europeans in the factories were I lived, between my parents house and the factories was a lovely picturesque lake alive with some lovely examples of British wildlife. A friend befriended one of the workers who we nicknamed red ken, one day cycling past the lake we saw red ken so stopped off for a chin wag, he was ticking into his hard earned lunch, a sandwich of what looked like dark tuna, he told us it was a duck from the lake but the small blue and orange birds tasted best and pointed to some nesting kingfishers. We didn’t really talk to ken much after that.