For their patience, warmth and expertise during my research visit to the Harry Ransom Research Center at the University of Texas, Austin, I’d like to thank Jean M. Cannon, Pat Fox, Margi Tenney, and Richard Workman. And in Buckinghamshire, particular thanks to William Goldsmith, who showed me around Stowe School.
The greatest of love and thanks to my mother, brother, Cheryl, Aimee, Bea, and the rest of my family, of course, for letting me tell this story without even a flicker of worry about what I might say. And love and gratitude also to Christina McLeish, the best of friends and superb under-falconer, who was a fount of support after my father’s death and during the writing of this book, and Olivia Laing, whose own books are a constant inspiration and whose wise counsel and good humour kept me writing; and to Stuart Fall and Amanda Lingham, who helped me through very dark times, and my surrogate American family: Erin Gott, Paige Parkhill, Jim and Harriet Gott, Wyatt and Curran Gott, who always make me feel at home.
So many people helped me with friendship, love, inspiration, encouragement, or in other ways while I wrote this book. Thanks are due to them all: Pat Baylis, Steve Bodio, Lee Brindley, Tim Button, Tracy Carmichael, Jake Daum, Tim Dee, Steve Delaney, John Gallagher, Andrew Hunter, Tony James, Polly Appleby and Archie James, Conor Jameson, Boris Jardine, Nick Jardine, Bill Jones, Lauren Kassell, Tim Lewens and Emma Gilby, Josh Lida, Greg Liebenhals, John Loft, Robert Macfarlane and Julia Lovell, Robert and Margaret Mair, Scott McNeff, Gordon Mellor, Toby Metcalf, Patricia Monk, Adam Norrie, Rebecca O’Connor, Ian Patterson, Robert Penney, John Pitmann, Marzena Pogorzaly, Joanna Rabiger, Joe Ryan for his chaffinches, Katharine Stubbs, and Lydia Wilson. Special thanks to Andrew Metcalf and to Fiona Mozley. And to Chris Wormell for his exquisite cover image.
And last of all, and most of all, I would like to thank my father, who taught me how to love the moving world, and to my beautiful hawk who taught me how to fly in it after he was gone. Mabel flew for many more seasons before a sudden, untreatable infection with Aspergillosis – an awful airborne fungus – carried her from her aviary to the dark woods where dwell the lost and dead. She is much missed.