A tiny aquatic drama.

This afternoon I spent about an hour travelling to a regional art gallery which turned out to be closed on Mondays. My bad – I have access to the Internet, I should probably have thought to check the gallery’s opening hours as well as the train timetable. Oh well.

So my default day-off treat is to have fish and chips sitting on the foreshore wall watching the life of the river flow past me. There I was, sitting on the river wall munching on my fish and chips (and being utterly menaced by an extremely assertive seagull who wanted to share. He was actually slightly intimidating. He was like a small, feathery stand-over man), when an Australian darter bird emerged from the water with an enormous silver fish in his beak. Without the benefit of opposable thumbs, or even paws with which to manipulate his frantically wriggling lunch, the darter struggled to flip it to the right angle to be able to swallow it. This was further complicated by the fact that it was being dive-bombed by seven seagulls (I counted them) who felt very strongly that the darter should share, or better still, relinquish his fish to one of them. Even once the darter had managed to swallow the fish (from my viewpoint I could see the large bulge in the bird’s usually slender neck), the seagulls continued to harass him (retribution?) until he was forced to duck under the dark water to escape.

While I was watching this drama unfold, I noticed that not one other human being stopped to notice this tiny daily miracle play out – even those walking along talking in loud voices about how beautiful and peaceful the view was.

The things we miss because our minds are too busy…

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