The weaver bird colony was on a tree in a lake, which swarmed with fish. The lake also contained a healthy population of crocodiles which preyed on the fish, and probably any young weaver birds who failed their first flying test.
While I watched the comings and goings of the birds, a large crocodile lay motionless on the island at the edge of the water, his mouth agape in order to cool himself down in the stifling heat.
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