Monday, July 18, 2016
I was in the middle of an 'air-raid,' on the Coast today.
Now don't get me wrong, folks---I am OK. I survived. NO---New Zealand has not departed from its peaceful state---it has not entered yet another stupid and endless war, following on the footsteps of the USA, like it usually does or enacts that'Where Britain goes, we go,' folly! NO---this was far more basic in its stance, more down to earth---well in the sky above the bay to be exact. Whilst I was walking Perdy, we were suddenly assailed by the noise of an approaching cloud of screaming feathered Stuka bombers. One seagull had been lucky enough to score a wiggling silver morsel, to then be attacked by other wannabe breakfast club members. NO---they were not content to go get their own---they had to have THAT particular fish! It was bedlam in the sky; I seriously thought that they would swoop on us and unleash a sign of their displeasure in the form of a slimy stinky poop! Of course, Perdy took it all in her stride. She has long given up on catching one of them unless they are way too slow to launch. Hell, they have no intention of being her lunch! She just watched, and sniffed around amongst the rocks, while I kept an eye on the shenanigans in the sky. I had to admire the skill with which they manoeuvred their fluffy frames. The original claimant of the fish had long since lost its bounty; the race had been more like a relay as first one dropped it and another dived down and caught it, only to lose it whilst taking a turn too fast, then another. This went on until finally, one of them managed to swallow it on 'the wing.' Then---they simply dispersed as if nothing had happened and peace resumed over the skies of Tararu.