The spider monkeys swing by each morning for a protracted breakfast of pine nuts. In the first few days, when they saw me underneath they’d shriek and thrash about and then scarper, which made me feel bad for disturbing their very pleasant family gathering. Then they got used to me. I could almost hear ‘Oh. You’ in resigned monkey voices. Aside from an incident in which I wore a hat, effectively disguising myself as a different sort of animal altogether and provoking confusion, distress and a rain of small branches, they tend to watch me for a bit, and then ignore me. I am most privileged to be ignored by monkeys. Rough film, low res, great monkey.