Revisiting David Attenborough

We like nature programs on TV. Mostly. They’ve changed over the years. The photography is better, much better. The scenery is breathtaking. The animals are intensely riveting. But there’s more eating.

Noticed that? TV animals eat more than they used to.  Not only that, but they eat at meal times. Our meal times. In our house.

Seems that every time we consent to turn on the TV at dinner time David Attenborough has a wild tiger in his sights. And the tiger has another smaller animal in his sights. And we sit there with our macaroni cheese while the tiger pulls away the haunch of some poor antelope and David Attenborough thinks we need a close-up of the blood covered face of this most wonderful of animals and of the still quivering flesh of its prey.

Our new home has the dining table at the other end of the house from the TV. There’s that problem solved. Except at breakfast.

At breakfast we sit facing out the bay window into the back garden. We are visited each morning by a pair of kookaburras. They are magnificent birds with charisma and personality. They think they own the place, and considering that the dog moved out with the previous owners, I guess they now do.

They sit on the clothesline, watching our grass grow. And just as we are about to take a spoonful of meusli or a sip of tea (Twinings Earl Grey) one of them flies down and pulls a worm from hiding – and eats it. David Attenborough lives I tell you. At least there’s no quivering flesh of antelope.

The kookaburras look in our window as much as at the grass. And one of them has developed a bit of territoriality. When it’s time to go he flies directly towards us, turning about a foot from the window and zooming away past our line of vision. It’s a wonderful sight as his wings almost brush the glass.

I don’t think he likes us watching him while he eats.

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