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Isabel Bogdan was born in Cologne and studied English and Japanese. She is an enthusiastic Hamburg-dweller, reader, writer and translator into German (including Jane Gardam, Jonathan Safran Foer, Nick Hornby, Jasper Fforde). Her first book Sachen Machen came out in 2012, followed in 2016 by The Peacock, and in 2019 by Laufen. She has won prizes for her translating, her writing and the online interview project “Was machen die da?”
Annie Rutherford champions poetry and translated literature in all its guises. She works as Programme Co-ordinator for StAnza, Scotland’s international poetry festival, and as a writer and translator. Her published translations include German/Swiss poet Nora Gomringer’s Hydra’s Heads (Burning Eye Books, 2018) and Belarusian poet Volha Hapeyeva’s In My Garden of Mutants (Arc, 2021). She co-founded the literary magazine Far Off Places and Göttingen’s Poetree festival.
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Mr Bakshi read out the questions and asked his wife why they had come here and what they had done during their stay. She asked what the options were; there, she said, wildlife watching – that sounded super, that’s what they were here for! They really had seen an owl the other night, she said. Yes, the Laird said, you saw them quite often here. And this, said Mrs Bakshi, action and adventure, another good one! He should tick that too. Indeed, Mr Bakshi told the McIntoshes, they had experienced both of these things that morning – plenty of action and adventure with wildlife, right here in the cottage.
Not a particularly exciting story in itself, but an hour later they awoke to the same sound again. Stupid creature, flying right back in here, Mr Bakshi had grunted into his pillow. But this time it was a swallow, he told the McIntoshes, and tragically it had got stuck between the two panes of the opened window. It took quite a bit of effort to manoeuvre it out, for the creature had panicked, and when they moved the window, it just got its wings stuck even more. In the end, they used the handle of a wooden spoon to somehow push the bird – by now totally distressed – up between the windowpanes. Mr Bakshi was finally able to catch it and put it on the windowsill, where it flew away out into the air – luckily it wasn’t injured. But it really was peculiar, the Bakshis said, that two birds had behaved so strangely on one and the same morning, just flying into a human dwelling like that. They didn’t normally do that.
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