My second leopard was sequestered in a tree about 10 months ago. It took an age to see even though I knew it was there and when I saw it it was so obvious I couldn't believe I'd missed it. I suspect most things which missed it would live only briefly to regret their error.
It was the very picture of feline nonchalance; all exagerated stretching, unfeasable wriggling and one-eye-open hopeful half napping. Eventually it rolled onto all fours and commenced to groom offering the perfect picture save for that one tiny branch.
Tiny imperfections in otherwise perfect moments like these are what I love as an amateur naturalist. They're part of the thrill of the chase, the knowledge (as Roy McIvoy put it) that "perfection is unobtainable" reminds us, with the heat and the dust and the uncomfy seats, that we're in the real world, not HDTV-land and that we share it with things that are truly wonderful