Animals do the funniest things
And Homo sapiens are no exception. Our day out on the 12th was lovely, the weather was wrm but breezy nad it didn't rain until we were back in the car for the drive home. We forgot the mobile but the car was fine. My fortune cookie the night before read "everything in life is luck" it makes me wonder if there is luck, or chance or coincidence or maybe if there is a predestined path that we are bound to follow. So many tiny pebbles thrown into the river, eventually they change the flow, so maybe we can change our futures despite seeing the collisions that will undoubtedly happen if we ourselves refuse to change and grow from what we are.
Tom's favourite exhibit was the sea lion tunnel. He is funny like that. He loved it but was drawn quickly through it almost holding his breath waiting for the glass to collapse under the weight of hundreds of gallons of salt water. It didn't maybe that was luck too. Or more likely the clever design developed over years of hard work. try as I might I still struggle to believe in luck. For usch large creatures they glide so gracefully above the arc of the tunnel, some roll onto their backs; they are teasing the guests, showing off with playful acrobatics. They are our size or bigger yet they posses more grace and humour than most humans will ever know. They may be locked behind perspex but mentally they are free.
We saw the chimpanzies, I am a sucker for the familiar brown eyes. They know us all too well and there is so much to recognise inside their gaze; they make me ashamed of all I waste and the price they pay for our growth as a species. We refuse to pay our own debts but deny we owe them for their sacrifices. They are a family. A mother eats a carrot while her youngest child scampers amongst the ropes, swinging and capering in pure delight at the attention of the guests. Its older sibling watches morosely from the sidelines you can almost hear it sigh. And the father sits against the perspex wall watching intently, a game of staring that you can't possibly win. He waits for time to pass along with us.
It was sad watching the two orang utans. One was sitting quiet and seemingly sad in the corner of its exhibit (can you imagine life in a fish tank? a world with no privacy yet full of walls?) whilst it's mate lay hidden under a pile of sacking. We didn't even know it was there. Not until feeding time when the sacking moved and it wandered with it's makeshift cloak (like something out of harry potter almost) over to the keeper for food. They are a solitary species apparently, no wonder they look so cheesed off.
In retrospect I think the penguins were the animals that I took the most away from. We arrived at the exhibit and all but 3 of them were huddled in one corner. They jostled for position and started expectantly upwards. A quick glance at our map and programme indicated what the penguins instinctively knew. It was nearly feeding time. When the keeper finally appeared they had formed an orderly queue and then walked single file (on best behaviour I susepect) into the guest area to be fed. Only three remained, clearly aware that they would get fed later anyway and not wanting to encourage further visits from zoo guests. Penguins are stubborn creatures. Better behaved than most school kids though!
Tom's favourite exhibit was the sea lion tunnel. He is funny like that. He loved it but was drawn quickly through it almost holding his breath waiting for the glass to collapse under the weight of hundreds of gallons of salt water. It didn't maybe that was luck too. Or more likely the clever design developed over years of hard work. try as I might I still struggle to believe in luck. For usch large creatures they glide so gracefully above the arc of the tunnel, some roll onto their backs; they are teasing the guests, showing off with playful acrobatics. They are our size or bigger yet they posses more grace and humour than most humans will ever know. They may be locked behind perspex but mentally they are free.
We saw the chimpanzies, I am a sucker for the familiar brown eyes. They know us all too well and there is so much to recognise inside their gaze; they make me ashamed of all I waste and the price they pay for our growth as a species. We refuse to pay our own debts but deny we owe them for their sacrifices. They are a family. A mother eats a carrot while her youngest child scampers amongst the ropes, swinging and capering in pure delight at the attention of the guests. Its older sibling watches morosely from the sidelines you can almost hear it sigh. And the father sits against the perspex wall watching intently, a game of staring that you can't possibly win. He waits for time to pass along with us.
It was sad watching the two orang utans. One was sitting quiet and seemingly sad in the corner of its exhibit (can you imagine life in a fish tank? a world with no privacy yet full of walls?) whilst it's mate lay hidden under a pile of sacking. We didn't even know it was there. Not until feeding time when the sacking moved and it wandered with it's makeshift cloak (like something out of harry potter almost) over to the keeper for food. They are a solitary species apparently, no wonder they look so cheesed off.
In retrospect I think the penguins were the animals that I took the most away from. We arrived at the exhibit and all but 3 of them were huddled in one corner. They jostled for position and started expectantly upwards. A quick glance at our map and programme indicated what the penguins instinctively knew. It was nearly feeding time. When the keeper finally appeared they had formed an orderly queue and then walked single file (on best behaviour I susepect) into the guest area to be fed. Only three remained, clearly aware that they would get fed later anyway and not wanting to encourage further visits from zoo guests. Penguins are stubborn creatures. Better behaved than most school kids though!
posted by stunted at 7:22 AM
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