To celebrate the 100th birthday of national treasure Sir David Attenborough, this latest episode of Inside Henry’s Head bucks its usual tradition of throwing two completely arbitrary things together and seeing what happens, opting instead for a rare, almost sensible, all-nature outing—featuring Zoo Quest and the history of birds.

We begin, as all sensible journeys do, in the 1950s, with Attenborough setting off on Zoo Quest. Exotic locations, groundbreaking television, and the faint but persistent sense that everyone involved is slightly too calm about the presence of large, carnivorous reptiles. Henry reflects on the show’s peculiar charm, the great personal dangers faced by Sir David in the pursuit of kidnapping foreign animals, and the understated bravery of turning up somewhere unfamiliar armed primarily with received pronunciation, a pack of Woodbines, and some terribly good manners.

From there, we take wing into the history of birds. Yes, all of them—or at least a confidently selected handful. Henry embarks on a typically wide-ranging exploration of our feathered co-inhabitants, from their prehistoric origins and their unlikely evolution from lizard-like ancestors to their ongoing commitment to observing humanity with thinly veiled suspicion. And, naturally, no survey of avian history would be complete without an entirely necessary detour into Judith Kerr’s Mog books.

As always, facts appear when they feel like it. Detours are frequent. Pronunciation guides occur uninvited. And Henry’s incomprehensible, lispy father contributes the usual inane commentary, hovering somewhere between half-remembered documentary narration and complete non-sequitur.

If you’ve ever wondered what connects early wildlife television with the long, strange history of birds, the answer is ‘not very much, obviously’—but this might just be the episode for you.

So, join us for another politely rambling circuit of Henry’s Head.

Care for a cigarette?

In this latest episode of Inside Henry’s Head, our hero once again demonstrates his gift for pairing things that have no business being mentioned in the same sentence. This time: pigeons and the Moog from Willo the Wisp.

We begin with pigeons. Yes, those pigeons. The ones everyone pretends to hate while continuing to drop chips directly in front of them.

Henry mounts a spirited defence of the bird Britain loves to loathe, touching on their unexpected intelligence, their excellent navigational skills, and the quiet dignity with which they judge you from a lamppost. There are also some reflections on poo, civic architecture, and that whole fat-neck business.

Then, without warning, we’re off to Doyley Woods, where the Moog lurks. Part dog, part sausage, the Moog is examined with the seriousness normally reserved for ancient myths.

Henry considers its mournful mumbling, its place in British childhoods, and whether it represents the soul of the nation or just a cry for help.

As always, facts appear when they feel like it. Detours are frequent. Songs emerge uninvited. And Henry’s incomprehensible father contributes the usual commentary, hovering somewhere between Internet-gleaned wisdom and complete non sequitur.

If you’ve ever wondered what connects an urban scavenger with a melancholy creature from a children’s programme that scared you slightly in 1981, this is the episode for you.

So, join us for another politely rambling circuit of Henry’s Head.

Oh, and Happy Christmas!

(We don’t mention Christmas in the episode, because we’re mavericks and we play by our own rules.)

In this, the long-awaited fourth episode of Inside Henry’s Head, our hero tackles another gloriously mismatched pair of topics: the kākāpō—a rare, nocturnal, flightless parrot from New Zealand—and the aardvark, a snuffling, ant-eating beast straight outta Africa.

Prepare for some unfiltered kākāpō appreciation, including info about how they’ve become endangered (not the Dutch this time), what they smell like, and why you probably shouldn’t wear a green t-shirt near them. Then it's on to the aardvark: part pig, part kangaroo, part vacuum cleaner—all adorable. Well, if you’re Henry anyway.

Expect the same number of occasionally accurate facts, unexpected detours, and surprising singsongs. Plus, the usual semi-comprehensible comments from his lispy father thrown in for good measure.

If you’ve ever wondered what connects an endangered parrot and a solitary insectivore (besides absolutely nothing), this is the episode for you.

So, strap in for another charming, if slightly chaotic, journey around Henry’s Head.

If you’d like to help save the kākāpō, please visit here. Otherwise, do please carry on helping homeless people.