There were three little rabbits on the nature strip on the way to the bus stop. They nibbled the grass, adorably arranged in ascending size order. I was mentally coating them in chocolate and coloured foil when it occurred to me, that would make a cool photo. So I dug out the camera. One bunny heard the zoom zooming and zoomed off into the bushes. Bugger. I crept forward and press the shutter. B2 nicked off. The third remained, the tiniest and most wriggly-nosed. But just as I knelt down and got the shot looking pretty, he accelerated. There were grass stains on my knees and the bus sailed past without me. The next day I was walking through The Meadows. It was a sexy summer day; sunlight squeezed through the trees, lady joggers jogged by with breasts that did not move. In a clearing there was dozens of pigeons gurgling to each other. Along came a dalmatian, long-legged and goofy, bounding between the birds in that goofy dalmatian way. The pigeons just ignored him. Naturally the caption came to mind first, "Dog Among The Pigeons". Ah ha ha, you're so funny, you, I said to me. Finally I remembered that I hadn't taken the bloody picture yet. But by the time I wrestled with my backpack and got the camera fired up, the dog streaked away in pursuit of a poodle. Then a little kid barrelled into the frame and sent the pigeons reeling. He was blonde and annoying and had spotted a squirrel. The squirrel spotted the kid. The kid prowled around the base of the tree, grubby fists outstretched. The squirrel scrambled, but instead of going straight up the tree, it ran around and around the trunk in a spiral, and the kid followed, around and around. And so began a ridiculous chase that begged to be accompanied by zany music, like Benny Hill. It would have made a great photo, but I turned around and walked away. Maybe the squirrel jumped on the boy's sandy head, cracked it open with an acorn and gorged on the contents. But knowing me, cursed with the reflexes of a 90-year-old on a porch, I would have missed the shot for sure.