I remember listening to my Mum trying to explain, a few years back, why she loves the BBC’s coverage of the Chelsea Flower Show so much. She watches it every year with such great enthusiasm and joy; anyone making noise while it is on is summarily ejected from the room.
I did listen to her reasoning but I did not get it. ‘that’ll never happen to me,‘ I thought secretly. ‘However old I get.’
Only it has, with Springwatch. Friends, I am completely addicted. I love it so much that last night I actually found myself doing a round up of what had happened the night before for The Man, who had missed it. I was even heard to say ‘Chris got really cross about the tweets about the Bitterns, it was SOOOOO funny.’
I can’t tell you how much I love this programme. And actually I needn’t be embarrassed anyway; what greater a subject is there for telly than the natural world? Naughty beavers! Lovelorn guillemots! Baby rabbits! CHRIS THE CUCKOO! I mean, my God! We are going to France next week. I shall be recording every episode. And I don’t care.