I was driving over the moors last week on my usual trip to work. It was a clear, sunny day and I was pondering how bleak could also be beautiful when I spotted it: a Red Kite, hovering about 40 feet off the ground just ahead of me. I pulled over to savour the experience. I enjoyed a few moments of sweet melancholy (of the ‘I wish I was a Red Kite – life would be so simple’ variety) which then gave way to a feeling of contentment that I live where I live (because on a Bad Day it feels like the arse-end of nowhere.) I continued to work feeling happy with life.
I was driving the same road yesterday morning. The Today Programme was reporting how the reintroduction of the Red Kite in the
“What a tender and heart-warming story” I thought to myself.
“I wonder if I will see my Kite today?”
John Humphrys continued. Apparently, we are in danger of gravely prohibiting their breeding by feeding them with kitchen scraps, as it inhibits their natural instinct to scavenge and expand their territory.
“We are, in fact, killing them with kindness” intoned Mr Humphrys (serious voice, grave concern conveyed.)
Why does John Humphrys always have to spoil things?