As the worst of the wintry weather seems behind us and the buds on the magnolia tree outside my office appear to swell with the promise of spring, it's only natural that we business coaches long to go "netwalking".
Netwalking, as you've probably figured out, combines networking with a country walk; and Rosemary from the Herts Coaching Club organised a stroll earlier this week starting and finishing at her splendid place in Harpenden.
Most of the usual faces from the club breakfasts were there, clustered in Rosemary's kitchen for pre-walk coffees. Myles had sent his apologies; he was cloistered in Canary Wharf with a banking client. As I sipped an espresso from Rosemary's machine, an unfamiliar bearded chap walked in. "This is Michael," said Rosemary, helping him out of his Barbour. "He's HR director at Schneider."
I hope I didn't start visibly but it was as if a neon sign flashing "CLIENT" had suddenly appeared above Michael's head. Schneider is a global engineering firm with a big building in Hemel Hempstead. Determined not to "sell" overtly to Michael, I played it cool and just shook hands before filing out into the hallway with the others to put on my walking boots.
This being my first experience of netwalking, I wasn't sure of the protocol but I brought along my binoculars; there was every chance, after all, of spotting red kite or even a sparrowhawk. I stood in the late-morning sunshine as the others emerged on to the driveway; Michael, now back in his Barbour, stepped outside and flashed me a smile.
"Snap!" he said. He too had a pair of binoculars dangling on his chest. The two of us naturally gravitated together and found ourselves bringing up the rear. "Look!" I said, a few minutes into the walk. "Goldfinch." A flock of them settled in a hawthorn bush, their wings flashing bright yellow. "Well spotted," said Michael.
We chatted. Mid-way, he asked what I did; I explained my recent transition to executive coaching. "We should talk," he said. "We're always on the lookout for good people to help us with our talent pool." I basked in the sunshine as we wound our way back towards Rosemary's house. There was a lot to be said, I reflected, inwardly, for this netwalking idea.
I was putting the lens covers back on the binoculars as we all turned into Rosemary's road. Michael stopped and lifted his binoculars to his eyes. "I do believe that's a goshawk," he said. A bird of prey was hovering in the distance. "I think you'll find that's a kestrel," I said. When Michael insisted, I shook my head. "It's hovering," I said. "Only kestrels do that." There was an awkward silence as people took off their shoes and went into the house. Michael offered his apologies; he had to leave.
"I'd love to pick up that coaching conversation," I croaked. "Do you have a card?" "Has Rosemary got you as a contact on LinkedIn?" I nodded. "Great. Then we're connected." With that he zipped up his Barbour and left.