1. I walk to work through a small park. In this park there are trees. In one of these trees is a nest. The nest is situated at the very end of a low branch overhanging the footpath. Every time I walk along this footpath I am now attacked by birds which is heart-thumpingly Hitchcockian. Worse; they are ninja kamikaze dive-bombing birds – their approach is silent, they give no warning tweet to advertise their evil avian intent to peck your brains out through your cranium for your unwitting trespass too close to their eggs.
2. On Sunday I was happily scoffing a plate of eggs and bacon, whilst reading a book, as is my wont. I admit that my attention, therefore, was not wholly on my plate. However, little did I suspect the dastardly plot which was being hatched behind me. A miner bird hopped up onto the back of the chair opposite me, so I kept my eye on him (for tis his brethren who lunge at me from the skies in the park) only for a ruddy great seagull to swoop across the table, all flappily squawking, and make off with a large slice of buttered Turkish toast and half my eggs.
3. Nature may think she has me on the run, starving and with a suppurating head-injury, but no, I am made of sterner stuff. Today, I ate my ice-cream indoors, where it is safe and where any pigeon looking at me askance must do so from the other side of a pane of glass. That will teach them. Oh yes.