The signs were unambiguous.
We breathed a collective sigh of relief upon seeing that Sir Porridge, AK, was safely off the hit list.
It is not always so:
He hunkered down on a bin doing his bit for this great nation.
But there was more to his steadfast chomping than uncomplicated love of country. How easy it would have been to toss those grapes in the bin but Sir P is a cereal of honour and compassion. He munched in order to give that fruit the career satisfaction of being consumed by an appreciative gourmand. (This is a matter close to the knight’s heart as he has selflessly forgone this pleasure himself in order to be ambassador, troubadour, traveller, explorer, pioneer, public figure…)
Further on, birds alternately rose then dropped like a filmy evening frock being shaken. They skimmed along the crop then finally fell into it, leaving the air above the bands of green and gold, empty.
There may be a rational explanation for this but Sir Porridge is the type who enjoys the creative confusion such an oddity creates.
Perched up front, he gave a decided rustle as he crossed into South Australia – his third state in a day.
Join him next time as he continues his westward surge.