In Merimbula there are tall street lights along the bridge and continuing into town. The poles rise high, then curve to bring the actual light over the edge of the road, so there is a short horizontal piece of support with a big flat light fitting on the end of it.

Pelicans love the street lights. A solid "branch" to perch on, a safe surface to sit on, both far from all but airborne predators. Only space for one, so a solitary space, where a pelican can cogitate undisturbed.

Locals know to glance up before walking below them, and to note and avoid the poo patterns on the ground.

The local council - not the sharpest tool in the shed, at least not collectively - decided that pelicans on street lights was a bad thing, so they took steps. They affixed to the top section of each streetlight a rotating arm, free to rotate horizontally as the wind moves it. The arms, moved by the wind, sweep out a circle maybe a metre in diameter, across the top surface of the light itself and some of the support.

They don't work. At all. The pelicans have broken several, and just stop the others if they want to sit there. One or two still work when there is no pelican present. Some have swivelled to hang sadly below or half-around the support.

People, locals and tourists alike, love the pelicans. They love them in flight, on the water, perched on boats, perched on cables, perched on jetties, perched on poles, on buoys and on street lights. They are painted, drawn, and photographed. Children call to them. There are even sculptures of pelicans sitting on poles. Some arsehole stole one a while ago - if you ever see a pelican made out of scrap steel in someone's back yard, let the police know.

A pelican gliding in to land is majestic. A pelican sitting atop a pole or a streetlight tells you that everything is OK.

That is all.