As I lie in comfortable repose under the coprosma, where twittering birds feed greedily gobble its sweet, sticky berries, I am reminded that we couldn't always enjoy outdoor dozing without having one eye open. Nor could we leave our doors and windows open to let the cooling sea breeze dissipate the heat of summer. And no, I am not referring to being rid of petty pilferers and brazen burglars, but rather the random raids of the cheeky chacma, the local baboon species that is being mercilessly dealt with to suit the lifestyle of its sometimes questionably intelligent cousin - man.
These light-footed and light-fingered interlopers could spot a lunchtime al fresco spread from their lookout point high on the rocks of Slangkop, and before the chops had a chance to cool, their comical faces would be peeking over the wall, their eyes on the main chance. With everyone rushing around like headless chickens closing doors and windows and scooping up platters of food, it was easy pickings as dexterous fingers and amazing athleticism would see the garlic bread tucked under an armpit and chicken being chomped on the neighbour's roof before the dogs could bark and give fruitless chase. Disdainful glares would greet the shouts and banging of pot lids, and spraying with a hose just added to the general chaos.
Having not had a baboon raid in three years now, such scenes have all but disappeared from our memories. How easily we accept the 'perfect solution' when it results in an easy life for man at the cost of the wild animals whose territory we have invaded.
I miss those adrenalin rushes and helpless laughter after close encounters with these intelligent beings whose only crime has been to learn how to find food the easy way!
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