Red Kites in the Chilterns

Dominic, one of my oldest and dearest friends in England, a sartorially splendid, twinkly-eyed excellent man, told me he had never seen red kites (milvus milvus)before our lunch in Bledlow Ridge, in the Chilterns. We walked outside after a truly delicious meal and stared up at the sky where two awe-inspiringly large birds called out to each other.

The next day he called to tell me that the book he is reading, Untold Stories by Alan Bennett mentions red kites. Alan Bennett must've stopped for his lunchtime sandwich in exactly the same place as we were.
I love these coincidences. Jung calls it synchronicity. Arthur Koestler might call it something else.