Planet Earth II: A World of Wonder (2017) Movie Script
1
Looking down from two miles
above the surface of the Earth,
it's impossible not to be impressed
by the sheer grandeur and splendour
and power of the natural world.
Ten years ago, in a television
series called Planet Earth,
we revealed many of those wonders.
Planet Earth II brings you even
closer to the lives of animals
than ever before.
With new technology and new insight,
we can show wildlife dramas
in completely new ways.
In this programme, we celebrate some
of the highlights of the series.
Journeying to every corner of the globe...
...to reveal the extreme lengths
animals go to in order to survive.
And we also visit
the newest habitat on Earth -
our cities.
Now is a crucial time
for the natural world,
when our connection with nature
is more important than ever before.
This is Planet Earth II.
The snow leopard.
Seldom seen, the detail of their
lives has long been a mystery.
But now, at last, helped by the
latest remote camera technology,
we're getting closer to them
than ever before.
They are very rare - as few as
four of them in 40 square miles.
In the high mountains,
there is simply not enough prey
to sustain them.
They live solitary lives.
Nonetheless, they are well aware of
the presence and the movements
of their neighbours,
because they leave messages
in a few special places.
They rub particular rocks
with their cheeks...
...and then spray them with urine.
Their two perfumes
create a unique signature.
Any other leopard can know which
of its neighbours passed this way
without ever making direct contact.
Life at extreme altitudes has
shaped some of the toughest animals
on the planet.
In the Alps, Europe's highest peaks,
it's winter and food is desperately short.
A golden eagle has to spend
every daylight hour
scanning the slopes for something,
somewhere to eat.
Her seven-foot wingspan allows
her to glide effortlessly
for 100 miles in a single day.
Her extraordinary eyes enable her
to spot prey from two miles away.
But she is not the only one
who's looking for food.
When she spots a chance,
she must move fast.
She can dive at 200 miles an hour -
only a peregrine is faster.
During winter, even eagles rely
almost entirely on carrion.
It's a dead fox,
and it could sustain her for days.
Other scavengers must defer.
The hungry crows
soon regain their courage.
They'll try any trick
to steal a morsel.
And they are annoyingly persistent.
But this mob
are the least of her worries.
A bigger eagle takes control.
But this kill is
too important to give up.
So she must fight.
For the moment,
she's won the carcass back...
...but a kill like this will attract
every eagle for miles around.
As ever, the strongest
wins the lion's share.
Unable to defend
the carcass any longer,
the first eagle must now
continue its search.
It may be many days
before she feeds again.
Compared to the sparseness
of the highest mountains,
the jungle is full of opportunity.
It is Eden.
It covers less than
6% of the Earth's surface,
but it's home to half of all
the plants and animals on land.
The challenge here
is dealing with the competition.
And that has driven animals
to do a raft of ingenious things.
For some, it's about
trying to stand out.
While, for others, the key
to survival is blending in.
And these streams in Costa Rica are
home to one of the most remarkable
masters of disguise.
A glass frog.
A male, and tiny.
No bigger than your fingernail...
....and almost entirely transparent.
As he needs to be.
Almost everything that
walks past here could eat him.
Even a cricket.
His best chance is to stay
absolutely still and trust
that the cricket
looks right through him.
Danger passed...
...and that's just as well.
Because he is a father...
...and he's guarding
some very precious eggs.
For the last few weeks, females,
one after the other,
have visited him and
entrusted him with their offspring.
Some are now almost ready to hatch.
There are several clutches
on the leaf, and those at the top,
the most recently laid,
are barely a day old.
But, in the jungle, there's
always someone out to get you.
This wasp is a specialist
hunter of frogs' eggs.
It's noticed the wriggling
tadpoles at the bottom of the leaf.
He mustn't move.
The youngest eggs
are the most vulnerable,
and he can't guard them all.
But these tadpoles are not
as helpless as they might appear.
Incredibly, the unhatched tadpoles
can sense danger and the oldest
and strongest wriggle free
and drop into the stream below.
The eggs at the top
of the leaf, however,
are still too young to hatch...
...and now the wasps
know they're there.
But the male's back looks very like
the youngest cluster of eggs...
...and that seems
to confuse the wasps.
Using his own body as
a decoy is a huge risk.
The wasps' stings could kill him.
He's managed to save
most of his young.
He'll have to remain on guard
for another two weeks.
But, in the jungle, just surviving
the day can count as a success.
Jungles are the
richest places on Earth,
because of one remarkable fact.
They make their own weather.
Every day, water rises from the
surface of the leaves as vapour.
It's as if the trees
breathe out clouds.
They gather over the forest,
until finally...
...they burst.
Rain is the lifeblood
of every jungle...
...and all have to do their best
to endure the daily downpour.
In some jungles,
like here in Brazil,
it rains so much that,
for part of the year, the trees
are almost totally submerged.
This is a mysterious world, a place
few people have ever explored.
Here, 1,000 miles from the sea,
are dolphins.
A newly-identified species of river
dolphin found nowhere else on Earth.
At the shallow margins
of the flooded jungle,
food is so abundant
it supports giants.
Capybara - the biggest
rodents in the world.
Giant otters, the size of a man.
And the rulers of these rivers...
...caiman.
They grow to 10 feet long
and kill anything they get
between their jaws.
But there are more artful hunters,
drawn here from
the surrounding forest.
A jaguar -
the supreme jungle predator.
Capybara are strong and wary.
The key is stealth.
She needs to get within a metre
if she's to pounce.
Not this time.
She's not the only female here.
Each part of this jungle's edge
is ruled by a different queen.
Few places on Earth have enough food
to support so many big cats.
The male hunts in a different way.
Weighing over 130 kilos,
it's hard to be stealthy.
And with so many other
jaguars around,
he doesn't bother
with wary capybara.
He seeks a different prey.
He's become a killer...
...of killers.
Jaguars have the most powerful bite
of any cat.
And he knows the caiman's
most vulnerable point.
The back of its skull.
For some, isolation has provided
an escape from the competition.
The tiny island of Escudo,
off the coast of Panama.
Home to the pygmy three-toed sloth.
This is a male,
and life here suits him well.
Mangroves provide
all the leaves he can eat,
and there are no predators to worry him.
Island life may seem idyllic,
but it comes at a price.
There are only a few hundred
pygmy sloths in existence...
...and he needs a mate.
That's an enticing call...
...from a female...
...somewhere, out there.
And this, for a sloth, is a quick reaction.
The problem is there's
deep water between them.
So what should any
red-blooded sloth do?
Swim, of course.
Could this be her?
He does his best
to put on a turn of speed.
But she's not the one.
She already has a baby,
and she won't mate again
until it leaves her
in about six months' time.
Even life on a paradise island
can have its limitations.
But at least she can't be far away.
Islands can be sanctuaries
for wildlife,
but that doesn't mean
that life is easy.
Some can be very
challenging places indeed.
There are islands
still forming today,
built by volcanoes.
Some erupt explosively.
Others pour out rivers
of molten rock -
lava.
In the last 50 years, ten new
volcanic islands have been formed.
Young volcanic islands
can be tough places to survive.
This is Fernandina, one of the
Galapagos Islands in the Pacific.
It is a desolate place, but the
surrounding sea is rich with life.
And the frontier between these two
very different worlds is the home
of one of the strangest of reptiles.
Sea-going iguanas.
They are vegetarians,
but since there is little food
for them on land,
marine iguanas graze
on the sea floor.
A big male like this one can dive
to 30 metres and hold his breath
for half an hour.
It's an incredible adaptation
that allows them to survive
in a barren landscape.
And by bringing nutrients
from the sea to the land,
the iguanas help other
animals to survive here, too.
Crabs feed on dead skin
on the iguanas' back,
and in turn provide
a welcome exfoliation service.
While smaller lizards prey on
the flies that pester the colony.
But not all the relationships
on this island are so harmonious.
Marine iguanas lay their eggs in sand.
In June, when the hatchlings emerge,
they are vulnerable.
They must join the adults
at the edge of the sea,
but the journey
will be a dangerous one.
Racer snakes.
The snakes missed their chance.
But more babies are hatching...
...and now the snakes
are on the alert.
This is the best feeding opportunity
they will get all year.
On flat ground, a baby iguana
can outrun a racer snake...
...but others are waiting in ambush.
Another hatchling has its first
glimpse of a dangerous world.
A snake's eyes aren't very good...
...but they can detect movement.
So if the hatchling keeps its nerve,
it may just avoid detection.
A near-miraculous escape.
The lucky survivors can begin
learning the unique way of life
demanded by this hostile island.
There are habitats on Earth
where food seems abundant.
One quarter of all the land on Earth
is covered by a single remarkable
type of plant.
Grass.
It can be tall enough
to hide a giant...
...and the world it creates is unique.
These are the good times.
But in just a few months,
the animals will be forced
to move on in search of new growth.
For tiny animals, the summer boom
brings opportunity
to their doorstep.
An excellent time to build
a tiny treehouse...
...for a harvest mouse.
During summer, European
meadow lands are full of food.
But only for those
that can reach it.
Climbing grass is harder
than climbing trees,
not least because their
stems just won't stay still.
A prehensile tail
acts like a fifth limb,
so she's as agile as a monkey
clambering around in a tree.
And just as well, for the
best food in this tiny forest
is at the very top of its canopy.
Feeding up here, she's exposed.
A barn owl.
Not her finest move...
...but it did the trick.
Harvest mice seldom go
all the way down to the ground.
It's a tangled and
dangerous world down here.
But she can read the pattern
of the stems overhead like a map...
...and so find her way home.
And not a minute too soon.
There are mouths to feed.
Her babies must fatten up quickly.
They need to harvest the summer
grasses while they are still
rich with food.
On the grasslands of Africa,
Jackson's widowbirds
seek out fresh stems
with a different purpose in mind.
This male wants a mate.
He's grown elaborate breeding
plumage for this moment...
...but he needs a stage
on which to show it off.
By carefully selecting grass blades,
each trimmed to the correct length,
he's creating
something very special.
He needs an even surface...
...and a centrepiece.
The stage is set.
His bachelor pad is sufficiently
neat and tidy to attract a female.
The problem is, can she see it?
He has competition.
It might take more than a little
gardening to impress the ladies.
Jumping is the right idea...
...but he's misjudged
the height of the grass.
His rival makes it look easy.
Time to raise his game.
It's not only who jumps the highest,
but who can keep doing so the longest.
Unable to go the distance,
his rivals drop out, one by one.
Stamina has won him admirers.
Now he can show off
his courtship arena.
And engage in a little
romantic hide and seek.
Finally, he's done enough.
The seasonality of the grassland
means the time of
opportunity is swiftly followed
by times of hardship.
In winter, the prairies
of North America freeze.
60 million tonnes of snow
now blanket this herd
of bison's territory.
Pushing through the drifts is
exhausting work,
and the bison are now
slowly starving.
Just keeping warm saps
huge amounts of energy.
Their thick coats can insulate them
down to minus 20 Fahrenheit.
It's now minus 40.
The only thing that will keep them alive
is buried beneath
three feet of snow.
And that's a problem shared
with a surprising neighbour.
The food the fox seeks is
also deep beneath the snow.
The survival of both creatures
depends on getting through to the ground.
For the bison, it will be
a matter of brute strength.
Their lightweight neighbour
needs more precision.
The bison have reached their goal -
a mouthful of withered grass.
And where the bison have dug,
the fox now spots an opportunity.
Every footstep counts.
But he mustn't break through...
...yet.
He listens carefully
to pinpoint his target.
It's moving.
A vole.
Small, but 100 times more nutritious
than a mouthful of dried grass.
To get through the winter
on these prairies,
sometimes brain beats brawn.
Seasonal change brings a
transformation of the landscape
to more than just the grasslands.
In America, the spring melt turns
the slopes of the Rocky Mountains
from white to green.
Meadows that only a few weeks ago
were buried deep beneath
the snow are now full of life.
Bears have emerged
from their winter dens.
It's becoming warmer,
and they're keen to shed
their thick winter coats.
Mothers show their cubs
what to do about this.
They'll soon catch on.
Some trees, it seems, are
particularly suitable for rubbing.
Bears have their favourites,
and will travel long
distances to visit them.
Some itches just have to be scratched.
There are now around
30 bears in this one valley.
As they rub, each leaves an
individual and recognisable scent.
So the tree soon carries
a list of who's around...
...which might help
individuals to avoid a fight.
To best spread their scent,
they really have
to put their back into it.
But the summer is short.
Itches satisfactorily scratched,
it's time to eat.
Dawn in the high Andes.
Here, too, the sun's warmth
brings rapid relief.
Mountain viscacha are up early
to claim the best places
to catch the sun's first rays.
For others up here,
the sunrise is even more welcome.
At over 4,000 metres,
this is the highest
flamingo colony in the world.
At night, it gets so cold that even
this salty water freezes over.
And now the flamingos
are trapped in the ice.
Eventually, the sun thins the ice.
But it's still a struggle for
the flamingos to break free.
Walking on thin ice is always risky.
And it's hard
to retain one's dignity.
Especially when
you're wearing stilts.
At these altitudes,
the sun's power can quickly turn
from salvation to threat.
The atmosphere is so thin,
there is very little protection
from ultraviolet radiation.
By mid-morning, it's risky
to linger out in the open.
The viscacha are forced
to head for the shade.
Out on the lake,
there is nowhere to hide.
The white crust of the soda lake
reflects the sun's glare,
and increases the impact
of its ultraviolet rays.
By midday, uncovered human skin
will burn in four minutes.
But this doesn't seem
to bother the flamingos.
In fact, they are on parade.
During the breeding season,
the flamingos perform
these peculiar courtship dances,
even through the hottest time of the day.
They're so eager,
they don't even pause to feed.
The rules are something
of a mystery.
But after a month of dancing,
all the birds will have paired off
and will be getting ready to mate.
Up here, there are few other
creatures to bother the flamingos,
but then, few other creatures could
even tolerate these conditions.
Such extreme habitats
require wildlife
to be extraordinarily resilient.
And nowhere more so
than in the desert.
With temperatures reaching
almost 50 degrees Celsius,
there's no escape
from the scorching sun,
the wind and the dust.
This is the oldest desert
in the world -
the Namib, in south-west Africa.
It's been dry for 55 million years.
Life here, for a hunter,
is as hard as it gets.
A pride of lions.
One of the very few that endures
this desert's scorching temperatures
and lack of water.
These are desperate times.
A dry riverbed on the edge
of their territory.
The only animals here are giraffe.
But these one-ton giants could kill
a lion with a single kick.
Lions seldom tackle
such formidable prey...
...but this pride can't go on
much longer without food.
The whole pride must work together
as a team if they're to succeed.
Two lionesses lead the chase.
Others race to cut off
possible escape routes.
The giraffe has the speed
and stamina to outrun the pride.
But it's being chased into a trap.
Up ahead, the lead female waits.
It's now up to her.
Most lion hunts end in failure.
But no lions fail more often than
those that live in the desert.
In the land where food
and water is so limited,
competition can be intense.
It's July in Nevada
in the Western United States.
The hottest time of the year.
Bands of wild horses, mustang,
are converging on one of the last
remaining waterholes for miles.
Now, water not only offers them
the chance to drink.
It can also bring power.
If a stallion can control
access to water,
he will have secured mating
rights to the entire herd.
So, stallions try to dominate
these pools,
fighting off rivals
who venture too close.
A stranger.
He's travelled ten miles
to be here,
because the pools where he's come
from have already dried up.
With him come his females.
If he can't provide them with water,
they will leave him
for the white stallion
who already dominates this pool.
So, he will have to fight.
There is everything to lose.
A broken leg or a shattered jaw
would mean a slow and painful death.
A missed kick and it's all over.
The new arrival has won.
And his prize is more
than just a chance to drink.
He has provided for his herd
and, in the process,
stolen his rival's females.
The white stallion's rule is over.
When rain does come,
it has the power to bring life
to even the desert.
And no creature exploits
the greening of the land
more quickly or more
dramatically than a locust.
Madagascar's arid south-west
has received its
highest rainfall in years.
Now an army is on the march,
attracted by the smell
of newly-sprouting grass.
Locusts are normally
solitary creatures,
but when food becomes suddenly
plentiful, they come together
into an unstoppable force that
devours everything in its path.
But this devastation is
about to get a lot worse.
The locusts now transform
into winged adults.
And with conditions as good as this,
they do so three times faster than normal.
Now they are at their most voracious.
And with wings,
they can take to the skies.
Once airborne, the locusts can
travel over 60 miles a day
in their search for new feeding grounds.
A super swarm of this scale
may only appear once in a decade.
This one extends
over 200 square miles
and contains
several billion individuals.
Between them, they will devour
forty thousand tonnes of food in a day.
Nothing can strip a land of its vegetation
with such speed and
thoroughness as a plague of locusts.
When the food eventually runs out,
the whole army will die.
But not before
it's devastated the land.
In the last 6,000 years,
a new habitat has appeared,
entirely designed and constructed
by one species for its own purpose.
We humans create homes
for ourselves, cities -
with consequences for wildlife,
good and bad.
Rome in December.
Visitors are drawn in
by the city's heat.
And they're leaving their mark.
In a single winter's day,
ten tonnes of its droppings
rain down on the city.
Starlings.
In the evening, they come back
to the warmth of the city
after feeding
in the neighbouring countryside.
They must return
to their roosting trees,
but the first to do so are
at the highest risk of being
caught by birds of prey.
So, they wait for others to arrive.
There's safety in numbers.
As daylight fades,
the sky fills with a staggering
one million starlings.
And then follows one
of Nature's great spectaculars.
How, or indeed, why, they
perform these marvelous aerobatics
we still do not fully understand.
Eventually, en masse,
they brave the descent and fill the
branches of their favourite trees.
On these cold winter nights,
the city's extra warmth can mean the
difference between life and death.
For the bold, this new world
can offer other opportunities.
But to compete with humanity
takes intelligence and nerve.
One enterprising species of monkey
has moved into the city
of Jaipur in India.
The Rhesus macaque.
But how to get a share
of all this juicy fruit?
Every morning,
the troop make the same journey
through the urban jungle,
just as human commuters do.
Sometimes, inevitably,
there are traffic jams.
Once they get to the market,
trouble begins.
Being both intelligent and brazen
is the key to beating human
beings on their home turf.
It's daylight robbery.
In the city, conflict between man
and animal might seem inevitable.
We create these cities
for ourselves,
and some of the changes we introduce
can be hard for animals to cope with.
One of the greatest
changes of recent times
has come from a single invention
made less than 140 years ago.
Electric light.
It has become more and more powerful...
...filling our streets with light.
It's everywhere in the city.
It even goes underground.
The difference between day and night
has become less and less
perceptible.
And that has a profound effect
on the activities of wildlife.
In the wilderness, light triggers
all kinds of behaviour.
On the night of the full moon,
hundreds of tiny hawksbill
turtle hatchlings emerge
from the safety of their
nest, deep in the sand.
Their instinct is to reach the
sea as quickly as possible.
And their guide is the light of the
full moon, reflected on the water.
But this young hatchling...
...is confused.
It's going in the wrong direction.
Bright light is coming
from the land.
And all these hatchlings are
travelling up the beach towards it.
Predators are ready
to take advantage.
Crabs now make their burrows
directly beneath the beach lights...
...and wait for their prey
to come to them.
Even if a hatchling escapes,
they're still in peril.
The lights become more
and more bewildering.
80% of all hatchlings on this beach
are now disoriented
by the lights of the town.
Roads bring many to their end.
Hundreds get trapped in
storm drains every night.
Exhausted by the effort of travelling
such a distance on land...
...this hatchling's chances
of surviving the night are slim.
This turtle is one
of the countless species
that have been unable to adapt
to the change brought about
by the urban environment.
Whether we choose to live in
harmony with wildlife is up to us.
But there is one city
where that idea
is being applied on a major scale -
Singapore.
Two million trees have been
planted here in the last 45 years.
This city is now richer in species
than any other in the world.
And this practice extends
to all parts of the city.
The waterways have been cleaned up
and smooth-coated otters
are coming back.
But perhaps the most spectacular
example of city greening
is this grove of "super trees".
These one hundred and
fifty feet high metal structures
are now full of life.
Creepers have been planted to grow
over the outermost branches.
This is a new urban world that
we have now designed and built
with others in mind.
Create the space
and the animals will come.
Is this a vision of our
cities of the future?
It could be possible
to see wildlife thriving
within our cities across the planet.
We, after all, are the
architects of the urban world.
Looking down on this great metropolis,
the ingenuity with which we continue
to reshape the surface of our planet
is very striking.
But it's also sobering.
It reminds me of just
how easy it is for us
to lose our connection
with the natural world.
Yet it's on this connection
that the future of both humanity
and the natural world will depend.
It's surely our responsibility
to do everything within our power
to create the planet that provides
a home, not just for us,
but for all life on Earth.
Looking down from two miles
above the surface of the Earth,
it's impossible not to be impressed
by the sheer grandeur and splendour
and power of the natural world.
Ten years ago, in a television
series called Planet Earth,
we revealed many of those wonders.
Planet Earth II brings you even
closer to the lives of animals
than ever before.
With new technology and new insight,
we can show wildlife dramas
in completely new ways.
In this programme, we celebrate some
of the highlights of the series.
Journeying to every corner of the globe...
...to reveal the extreme lengths
animals go to in order to survive.
And we also visit
the newest habitat on Earth -
our cities.
Now is a crucial time
for the natural world,
when our connection with nature
is more important than ever before.
This is Planet Earth II.
The snow leopard.
Seldom seen, the detail of their
lives has long been a mystery.
But now, at last, helped by the
latest remote camera technology,
we're getting closer to them
than ever before.
They are very rare - as few as
four of them in 40 square miles.
In the high mountains,
there is simply not enough prey
to sustain them.
They live solitary lives.
Nonetheless, they are well aware of
the presence and the movements
of their neighbours,
because they leave messages
in a few special places.
They rub particular rocks
with their cheeks...
...and then spray them with urine.
Their two perfumes
create a unique signature.
Any other leopard can know which
of its neighbours passed this way
without ever making direct contact.
Life at extreme altitudes has
shaped some of the toughest animals
on the planet.
In the Alps, Europe's highest peaks,
it's winter and food is desperately short.
A golden eagle has to spend
every daylight hour
scanning the slopes for something,
somewhere to eat.
Her seven-foot wingspan allows
her to glide effortlessly
for 100 miles in a single day.
Her extraordinary eyes enable her
to spot prey from two miles away.
But she is not the only one
who's looking for food.
When she spots a chance,
she must move fast.
She can dive at 200 miles an hour -
only a peregrine is faster.
During winter, even eagles rely
almost entirely on carrion.
It's a dead fox,
and it could sustain her for days.
Other scavengers must defer.
The hungry crows
soon regain their courage.
They'll try any trick
to steal a morsel.
And they are annoyingly persistent.
But this mob
are the least of her worries.
A bigger eagle takes control.
But this kill is
too important to give up.
So she must fight.
For the moment,
she's won the carcass back...
...but a kill like this will attract
every eagle for miles around.
As ever, the strongest
wins the lion's share.
Unable to defend
the carcass any longer,
the first eagle must now
continue its search.
It may be many days
before she feeds again.
Compared to the sparseness
of the highest mountains,
the jungle is full of opportunity.
It is Eden.
It covers less than
6% of the Earth's surface,
but it's home to half of all
the plants and animals on land.
The challenge here
is dealing with the competition.
And that has driven animals
to do a raft of ingenious things.
For some, it's about
trying to stand out.
While, for others, the key
to survival is blending in.
And these streams in Costa Rica are
home to one of the most remarkable
masters of disguise.
A glass frog.
A male, and tiny.
No bigger than your fingernail...
....and almost entirely transparent.
As he needs to be.
Almost everything that
walks past here could eat him.
Even a cricket.
His best chance is to stay
absolutely still and trust
that the cricket
looks right through him.
Danger passed...
...and that's just as well.
Because he is a father...
...and he's guarding
some very precious eggs.
For the last few weeks, females,
one after the other,
have visited him and
entrusted him with their offspring.
Some are now almost ready to hatch.
There are several clutches
on the leaf, and those at the top,
the most recently laid,
are barely a day old.
But, in the jungle, there's
always someone out to get you.
This wasp is a specialist
hunter of frogs' eggs.
It's noticed the wriggling
tadpoles at the bottom of the leaf.
He mustn't move.
The youngest eggs
are the most vulnerable,
and he can't guard them all.
But these tadpoles are not
as helpless as they might appear.
Incredibly, the unhatched tadpoles
can sense danger and the oldest
and strongest wriggle free
and drop into the stream below.
The eggs at the top
of the leaf, however,
are still too young to hatch...
...and now the wasps
know they're there.
But the male's back looks very like
the youngest cluster of eggs...
...and that seems
to confuse the wasps.
Using his own body as
a decoy is a huge risk.
The wasps' stings could kill him.
He's managed to save
most of his young.
He'll have to remain on guard
for another two weeks.
But, in the jungle, just surviving
the day can count as a success.
Jungles are the
richest places on Earth,
because of one remarkable fact.
They make their own weather.
Every day, water rises from the
surface of the leaves as vapour.
It's as if the trees
breathe out clouds.
They gather over the forest,
until finally...
...they burst.
Rain is the lifeblood
of every jungle...
...and all have to do their best
to endure the daily downpour.
In some jungles,
like here in Brazil,
it rains so much that,
for part of the year, the trees
are almost totally submerged.
This is a mysterious world, a place
few people have ever explored.
Here, 1,000 miles from the sea,
are dolphins.
A newly-identified species of river
dolphin found nowhere else on Earth.
At the shallow margins
of the flooded jungle,
food is so abundant
it supports giants.
Capybara - the biggest
rodents in the world.
Giant otters, the size of a man.
And the rulers of these rivers...
...caiman.
They grow to 10 feet long
and kill anything they get
between their jaws.
But there are more artful hunters,
drawn here from
the surrounding forest.
A jaguar -
the supreme jungle predator.
Capybara are strong and wary.
The key is stealth.
She needs to get within a metre
if she's to pounce.
Not this time.
She's not the only female here.
Each part of this jungle's edge
is ruled by a different queen.
Few places on Earth have enough food
to support so many big cats.
The male hunts in a different way.
Weighing over 130 kilos,
it's hard to be stealthy.
And with so many other
jaguars around,
he doesn't bother
with wary capybara.
He seeks a different prey.
He's become a killer...
...of killers.
Jaguars have the most powerful bite
of any cat.
And he knows the caiman's
most vulnerable point.
The back of its skull.
For some, isolation has provided
an escape from the competition.
The tiny island of Escudo,
off the coast of Panama.
Home to the pygmy three-toed sloth.
This is a male,
and life here suits him well.
Mangroves provide
all the leaves he can eat,
and there are no predators to worry him.
Island life may seem idyllic,
but it comes at a price.
There are only a few hundred
pygmy sloths in existence...
...and he needs a mate.
That's an enticing call...
...from a female...
...somewhere, out there.
And this, for a sloth, is a quick reaction.
The problem is there's
deep water between them.
So what should any
red-blooded sloth do?
Swim, of course.
Could this be her?
He does his best
to put on a turn of speed.
But she's not the one.
She already has a baby,
and she won't mate again
until it leaves her
in about six months' time.
Even life on a paradise island
can have its limitations.
But at least she can't be far away.
Islands can be sanctuaries
for wildlife,
but that doesn't mean
that life is easy.
Some can be very
challenging places indeed.
There are islands
still forming today,
built by volcanoes.
Some erupt explosively.
Others pour out rivers
of molten rock -
lava.
In the last 50 years, ten new
volcanic islands have been formed.
Young volcanic islands
can be tough places to survive.
This is Fernandina, one of the
Galapagos Islands in the Pacific.
It is a desolate place, but the
surrounding sea is rich with life.
And the frontier between these two
very different worlds is the home
of one of the strangest of reptiles.
Sea-going iguanas.
They are vegetarians,
but since there is little food
for them on land,
marine iguanas graze
on the sea floor.
A big male like this one can dive
to 30 metres and hold his breath
for half an hour.
It's an incredible adaptation
that allows them to survive
in a barren landscape.
And by bringing nutrients
from the sea to the land,
the iguanas help other
animals to survive here, too.
Crabs feed on dead skin
on the iguanas' back,
and in turn provide
a welcome exfoliation service.
While smaller lizards prey on
the flies that pester the colony.
But not all the relationships
on this island are so harmonious.
Marine iguanas lay their eggs in sand.
In June, when the hatchlings emerge,
they are vulnerable.
They must join the adults
at the edge of the sea,
but the journey
will be a dangerous one.
Racer snakes.
The snakes missed their chance.
But more babies are hatching...
...and now the snakes
are on the alert.
This is the best feeding opportunity
they will get all year.
On flat ground, a baby iguana
can outrun a racer snake...
...but others are waiting in ambush.
Another hatchling has its first
glimpse of a dangerous world.
A snake's eyes aren't very good...
...but they can detect movement.
So if the hatchling keeps its nerve,
it may just avoid detection.
A near-miraculous escape.
The lucky survivors can begin
learning the unique way of life
demanded by this hostile island.
There are habitats on Earth
where food seems abundant.
One quarter of all the land on Earth
is covered by a single remarkable
type of plant.
Grass.
It can be tall enough
to hide a giant...
...and the world it creates is unique.
These are the good times.
But in just a few months,
the animals will be forced
to move on in search of new growth.
For tiny animals, the summer boom
brings opportunity
to their doorstep.
An excellent time to build
a tiny treehouse...
...for a harvest mouse.
During summer, European
meadow lands are full of food.
But only for those
that can reach it.
Climbing grass is harder
than climbing trees,
not least because their
stems just won't stay still.
A prehensile tail
acts like a fifth limb,
so she's as agile as a monkey
clambering around in a tree.
And just as well, for the
best food in this tiny forest
is at the very top of its canopy.
Feeding up here, she's exposed.
A barn owl.
Not her finest move...
...but it did the trick.
Harvest mice seldom go
all the way down to the ground.
It's a tangled and
dangerous world down here.
But she can read the pattern
of the stems overhead like a map...
...and so find her way home.
And not a minute too soon.
There are mouths to feed.
Her babies must fatten up quickly.
They need to harvest the summer
grasses while they are still
rich with food.
On the grasslands of Africa,
Jackson's widowbirds
seek out fresh stems
with a different purpose in mind.
This male wants a mate.
He's grown elaborate breeding
plumage for this moment...
...but he needs a stage
on which to show it off.
By carefully selecting grass blades,
each trimmed to the correct length,
he's creating
something very special.
He needs an even surface...
...and a centrepiece.
The stage is set.
His bachelor pad is sufficiently
neat and tidy to attract a female.
The problem is, can she see it?
He has competition.
It might take more than a little
gardening to impress the ladies.
Jumping is the right idea...
...but he's misjudged
the height of the grass.
His rival makes it look easy.
Time to raise his game.
It's not only who jumps the highest,
but who can keep doing so the longest.
Unable to go the distance,
his rivals drop out, one by one.
Stamina has won him admirers.
Now he can show off
his courtship arena.
And engage in a little
romantic hide and seek.
Finally, he's done enough.
The seasonality of the grassland
means the time of
opportunity is swiftly followed
by times of hardship.
In winter, the prairies
of North America freeze.
60 million tonnes of snow
now blanket this herd
of bison's territory.
Pushing through the drifts is
exhausting work,
and the bison are now
slowly starving.
Just keeping warm saps
huge amounts of energy.
Their thick coats can insulate them
down to minus 20 Fahrenheit.
It's now minus 40.
The only thing that will keep them alive
is buried beneath
three feet of snow.
And that's a problem shared
with a surprising neighbour.
The food the fox seeks is
also deep beneath the snow.
The survival of both creatures
depends on getting through to the ground.
For the bison, it will be
a matter of brute strength.
Their lightweight neighbour
needs more precision.
The bison have reached their goal -
a mouthful of withered grass.
And where the bison have dug,
the fox now spots an opportunity.
Every footstep counts.
But he mustn't break through...
...yet.
He listens carefully
to pinpoint his target.
It's moving.
A vole.
Small, but 100 times more nutritious
than a mouthful of dried grass.
To get through the winter
on these prairies,
sometimes brain beats brawn.
Seasonal change brings a
transformation of the landscape
to more than just the grasslands.
In America, the spring melt turns
the slopes of the Rocky Mountains
from white to green.
Meadows that only a few weeks ago
were buried deep beneath
the snow are now full of life.
Bears have emerged
from their winter dens.
It's becoming warmer,
and they're keen to shed
their thick winter coats.
Mothers show their cubs
what to do about this.
They'll soon catch on.
Some trees, it seems, are
particularly suitable for rubbing.
Bears have their favourites,
and will travel long
distances to visit them.
Some itches just have to be scratched.
There are now around
30 bears in this one valley.
As they rub, each leaves an
individual and recognisable scent.
So the tree soon carries
a list of who's around...
...which might help
individuals to avoid a fight.
To best spread their scent,
they really have
to put their back into it.
But the summer is short.
Itches satisfactorily scratched,
it's time to eat.
Dawn in the high Andes.
Here, too, the sun's warmth
brings rapid relief.
Mountain viscacha are up early
to claim the best places
to catch the sun's first rays.
For others up here,
the sunrise is even more welcome.
At over 4,000 metres,
this is the highest
flamingo colony in the world.
At night, it gets so cold that even
this salty water freezes over.
And now the flamingos
are trapped in the ice.
Eventually, the sun thins the ice.
But it's still a struggle for
the flamingos to break free.
Walking on thin ice is always risky.
And it's hard
to retain one's dignity.
Especially when
you're wearing stilts.
At these altitudes,
the sun's power can quickly turn
from salvation to threat.
The atmosphere is so thin,
there is very little protection
from ultraviolet radiation.
By mid-morning, it's risky
to linger out in the open.
The viscacha are forced
to head for the shade.
Out on the lake,
there is nowhere to hide.
The white crust of the soda lake
reflects the sun's glare,
and increases the impact
of its ultraviolet rays.
By midday, uncovered human skin
will burn in four minutes.
But this doesn't seem
to bother the flamingos.
In fact, they are on parade.
During the breeding season,
the flamingos perform
these peculiar courtship dances,
even through the hottest time of the day.
They're so eager,
they don't even pause to feed.
The rules are something
of a mystery.
But after a month of dancing,
all the birds will have paired off
and will be getting ready to mate.
Up here, there are few other
creatures to bother the flamingos,
but then, few other creatures could
even tolerate these conditions.
Such extreme habitats
require wildlife
to be extraordinarily resilient.
And nowhere more so
than in the desert.
With temperatures reaching
almost 50 degrees Celsius,
there's no escape
from the scorching sun,
the wind and the dust.
This is the oldest desert
in the world -
the Namib, in south-west Africa.
It's been dry for 55 million years.
Life here, for a hunter,
is as hard as it gets.
A pride of lions.
One of the very few that endures
this desert's scorching temperatures
and lack of water.
These are desperate times.
A dry riverbed on the edge
of their territory.
The only animals here are giraffe.
But these one-ton giants could kill
a lion with a single kick.
Lions seldom tackle
such formidable prey...
...but this pride can't go on
much longer without food.
The whole pride must work together
as a team if they're to succeed.
Two lionesses lead the chase.
Others race to cut off
possible escape routes.
The giraffe has the speed
and stamina to outrun the pride.
But it's being chased into a trap.
Up ahead, the lead female waits.
It's now up to her.
Most lion hunts end in failure.
But no lions fail more often than
those that live in the desert.
In the land where food
and water is so limited,
competition can be intense.
It's July in Nevada
in the Western United States.
The hottest time of the year.
Bands of wild horses, mustang,
are converging on one of the last
remaining waterholes for miles.
Now, water not only offers them
the chance to drink.
It can also bring power.
If a stallion can control
access to water,
he will have secured mating
rights to the entire herd.
So, stallions try to dominate
these pools,
fighting off rivals
who venture too close.
A stranger.
He's travelled ten miles
to be here,
because the pools where he's come
from have already dried up.
With him come his females.
If he can't provide them with water,
they will leave him
for the white stallion
who already dominates this pool.
So, he will have to fight.
There is everything to lose.
A broken leg or a shattered jaw
would mean a slow and painful death.
A missed kick and it's all over.
The new arrival has won.
And his prize is more
than just a chance to drink.
He has provided for his herd
and, in the process,
stolen his rival's females.
The white stallion's rule is over.
When rain does come,
it has the power to bring life
to even the desert.
And no creature exploits
the greening of the land
more quickly or more
dramatically than a locust.
Madagascar's arid south-west
has received its
highest rainfall in years.
Now an army is on the march,
attracted by the smell
of newly-sprouting grass.
Locusts are normally
solitary creatures,
but when food becomes suddenly
plentiful, they come together
into an unstoppable force that
devours everything in its path.
But this devastation is
about to get a lot worse.
The locusts now transform
into winged adults.
And with conditions as good as this,
they do so three times faster than normal.
Now they are at their most voracious.
And with wings,
they can take to the skies.
Once airborne, the locusts can
travel over 60 miles a day
in their search for new feeding grounds.
A super swarm of this scale
may only appear once in a decade.
This one extends
over 200 square miles
and contains
several billion individuals.
Between them, they will devour
forty thousand tonnes of food in a day.
Nothing can strip a land of its vegetation
with such speed and
thoroughness as a plague of locusts.
When the food eventually runs out,
the whole army will die.
But not before
it's devastated the land.
In the last 6,000 years,
a new habitat has appeared,
entirely designed and constructed
by one species for its own purpose.
We humans create homes
for ourselves, cities -
with consequences for wildlife,
good and bad.
Rome in December.
Visitors are drawn in
by the city's heat.
And they're leaving their mark.
In a single winter's day,
ten tonnes of its droppings
rain down on the city.
Starlings.
In the evening, they come back
to the warmth of the city
after feeding
in the neighbouring countryside.
They must return
to their roosting trees,
but the first to do so are
at the highest risk of being
caught by birds of prey.
So, they wait for others to arrive.
There's safety in numbers.
As daylight fades,
the sky fills with a staggering
one million starlings.
And then follows one
of Nature's great spectaculars.
How, or indeed, why, they
perform these marvelous aerobatics
we still do not fully understand.
Eventually, en masse,
they brave the descent and fill the
branches of their favourite trees.
On these cold winter nights,
the city's extra warmth can mean the
difference between life and death.
For the bold, this new world
can offer other opportunities.
But to compete with humanity
takes intelligence and nerve.
One enterprising species of monkey
has moved into the city
of Jaipur in India.
The Rhesus macaque.
But how to get a share
of all this juicy fruit?
Every morning,
the troop make the same journey
through the urban jungle,
just as human commuters do.
Sometimes, inevitably,
there are traffic jams.
Once they get to the market,
trouble begins.
Being both intelligent and brazen
is the key to beating human
beings on their home turf.
It's daylight robbery.
In the city, conflict between man
and animal might seem inevitable.
We create these cities
for ourselves,
and some of the changes we introduce
can be hard for animals to cope with.
One of the greatest
changes of recent times
has come from a single invention
made less than 140 years ago.
Electric light.
It has become more and more powerful...
...filling our streets with light.
It's everywhere in the city.
It even goes underground.
The difference between day and night
has become less and less
perceptible.
And that has a profound effect
on the activities of wildlife.
In the wilderness, light triggers
all kinds of behaviour.
On the night of the full moon,
hundreds of tiny hawksbill
turtle hatchlings emerge
from the safety of their
nest, deep in the sand.
Their instinct is to reach the
sea as quickly as possible.
And their guide is the light of the
full moon, reflected on the water.
But this young hatchling...
...is confused.
It's going in the wrong direction.
Bright light is coming
from the land.
And all these hatchlings are
travelling up the beach towards it.
Predators are ready
to take advantage.
Crabs now make their burrows
directly beneath the beach lights...
...and wait for their prey
to come to them.
Even if a hatchling escapes,
they're still in peril.
The lights become more
and more bewildering.
80% of all hatchlings on this beach
are now disoriented
by the lights of the town.
Roads bring many to their end.
Hundreds get trapped in
storm drains every night.
Exhausted by the effort of travelling
such a distance on land...
...this hatchling's chances
of surviving the night are slim.
This turtle is one
of the countless species
that have been unable to adapt
to the change brought about
by the urban environment.
Whether we choose to live in
harmony with wildlife is up to us.
But there is one city
where that idea
is being applied on a major scale -
Singapore.
Two million trees have been
planted here in the last 45 years.
This city is now richer in species
than any other in the world.
And this practice extends
to all parts of the city.
The waterways have been cleaned up
and smooth-coated otters
are coming back.
But perhaps the most spectacular
example of city greening
is this grove of "super trees".
These one hundred and
fifty feet high metal structures
are now full of life.
Creepers have been planted to grow
over the outermost branches.
This is a new urban world that
we have now designed and built
with others in mind.
Create the space
and the animals will come.
Is this a vision of our
cities of the future?
It could be possible
to see wildlife thriving
within our cities across the planet.
We, after all, are the
architects of the urban world.
Looking down on this great metropolis,
the ingenuity with which we continue
to reshape the surface of our planet
is very striking.
But it's also sobering.
It reminds me of just
how easy it is for us
to lose our connection
with the natural world.
Yet it's on this connection
that the future of both humanity
and the natural world will depend.
It's surely our responsibility
to do everything within our power
to create the planet that provides
a home, not just for us,
but for all life on Earth.