I am of an age when I can only pick low hanging fruit. A tall apple tree and a taller pear tree grow in my front garden in London. I leave the high hanging fruit for the birds who this time of the year gorge themselves on it. This year, to my surprise a flock of green parakeets descended upon my fruit trees to eat the apples and pears, while I in wonder looked up at them.
Parakeets are becoming increasingly a feature of the suburban landscape, although I never knew that until I saw them. I think of parakeets as birds that we tame and keep in cages, which I rather suspect is not a pretty life for them. They originate from the Himalayas where they are free to fly but also free to be attacked by those that feed on them. People capture some as as pets and those captured are forced to exchange freedom with all the risks of freedom for the security of a prison, rather like some folk would exchange (or are forced to exchange) freedom for the perceived safety of a state in which the police and government have extensive powers to pry into our lives and affairs.
Closely observed citizens are like closely observed parakeets in a cage. Wild parakeets are different; when I came out of my house the parakeets flew away from the danger they perceived and returned when they deemed it safe so to do; we cannot fly away from the state we empower and are caged birds at the mercy of those servants we elect to govern us.