Behold, the monito del monte.
Weighing in at less than 2 ounces, this small opossum has been around since dinosaurs roamed the Earth. A resident of Chile and Argentina, the monito del monte is the only surviving species of the order Microbiotheria. And thanks to its extremely messy eating habits, it helps spread the seeds of more than 20 plant species in the forests of Chile and Argentina.
The monito is also one of the many animals getting their extreme close-up in "Our Great National Parks," a new Netflix series devoted to the eye-popping, heart-stopping, consciousness-raising wonders of the world's most astounding national parks.
Arriving just in time for Earth Day on April 22, the five-episode series focuses on just a handful of the world's more than 4,000 national parks. The series — which was executive produced and narrated by former President Barack Obama — travels from the lush rain forests of Indonesia's Gunung Leuser National Park to the coves and beaches of the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary, with stops in Kenya's Tsavo National Park and Chilean Patagonia.
Its cameras catch the nighttime moves of black rhinos gathering at a Kenyan waterhole, Chilean stag beetles locking jaws in a battle for a mate, and the first-ever footage of a 2-month old orca taking part in the hunt of gray whale calf.
But whether it is going for gasps, laughs or goosebumps, "Our Great National Parks" has one message for the humans at home:
We are not entirely doomed. Not yet.
Like any responsible nature series, "Our Great National Parks" cannot talk about the wonders of the natural world without acknowledging the many ways in which that world is under siege. No one here is pretending that climate change, habitat loss and pollution do not exist.
But in the world's national parks, endangered animal and plant populations are coming back, farmlands are being returned to the wild, and there are amazing views of the stars where light pollution used to be.
In the national parks, hope abounds. And this series wants you to revel in it.
The first episode, "A World of Wonder," is the only one that features multiple parks. As it hops from the Loango National Park on Africa's west coast to Japan's Yakushima National Park and beyond, "A World of Wonder" acts as a grand introduction to the world's breathtaking preserves and sanctuaries and the creatures that are thriving there.
There are Loango's surfing hippos, which are captured in all of their buoyant glory in some stunning drone footage. In Costa Rica's Manuel Antonio National Park, the three-fingered sloth plays oblivious host to the micro-kingdom of 80-plus fungi species living in its thick, perpetually damp fur.
And in a sequence that is both stressful and astonishing, a group of endangered Von der Decken's sifakas (a type of lemur) traverse the jagged limestone pinnacles of Madagascar's Tsingy de Bemaraha. Hats off to the intrepid humans who filmed this feat of nature.
This first installment also sets the tone and template for the series.
Although the filmmakers worked closely with scientists, conservationists, local guides and other experts, there are no on-camera interviews with any of them. There is no graphic footage of animals in peril. Even when one animal hunts and kills another, the deaths are not overly bloody. Climate change and other threats are acknowledged but not dwelled upon.
Instead, the series gives you cleverly constructed, anthropomorphized vignettes of animals meeting the extraordinary challenges of eating, mating and child-rearing in places that range from the paradisal to the perilous. All of these vignettes are narrated in a friendly, but passionate way by the 44th president of the United States, who does not have to push too hard to get you invested the stories he wants to tell.
Over the five episodes, you will see a young puma attempt to take down a guanaco (a relative of the llama) that is almost triple her weight; humpback whales gorging on swarms of anchovies on Monterey Bay; a young Andean condor learning to fly; and the aforementioned monito del monte, returning to the communal nest after a night of saving the forest.
The narration occasionally ambles into Dad-joke territory, and some of the scenes are a little over-scripted. (Seagull reaction shot, anyone?) But it is a very small price to pay for such a life-affirming, wonder-reviving look at the world around us.
And throughout, "Our Great National Parks" reminds viewers of the conservation strides that have been made since Yellowstone National Park was established in 1872.
Today, around 15% of the world's lands and 8% of our oceans have been protected through parks and reserves. In Monterey Bay, nature thrives in one our most populous states. Ecotoursim is bringing millions of dollars into Patagonia. There is a mountain gorilla baby boom in Rwanda.
As poet Emily Dickinson said, "'Hope' is the thing with feathers." In "Our Great National Parks," hope also has fur, scales, gills and claws. Good thing, too. It's a climate jungle out there, and the world needs all the help it can get.
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"Our Great National Parks" is streaming on Netflix.
