Standing up in his nest of seaweed and white feathers, the albatross chick spreads its patterned wings, with the clumsiness expected of all growing birds. I am delighted to see that he has already learnt to stretch out his throat towards the Ceiling, and make joyful, clacking noises, like his parents, which I still take to be a greeting (every time I say this, Raphael smiles at me.) I catch his attention with my bright seashells and tiny pebbles, and then offer him some fish, and he looks at me, as if thinking I am almost certain that this is food--and Raphael smiles at this too.