“There are people calling themselves “nature lovers”. So you love earthquakes, hurricanes, floods that spread death and diseases and bring misery? Rubbish. Maybe you love aspects of it, but don’t say you love nature.”
Standing in the back-garden the other day, above loose quote by Jacques Fresco came to mind, when witnessing a large flock of ducks fly past. Casting their precise arrow shape high above had me amazed, wondering and pondering how they do it. When I walked up to the car shortly after, I was astounded yet again, this time fully understanding how they did it. The car was almost completely covered in large white blotches of freshly dropped muddy duck shit.
Striking on target probably feels like a major achievement for birds. Whether scoring a parked car [mine] or a tourist in Rome [me, last year], I can acknowledge the triumph that comes with such great rigour. I’ll go as far as to say that it is no less of an achievement to shell a tiny spot with feces than, say, take part in complex self organising swarm behaviour. But then again, I’d neither call myself an ornithologist or, for that matter, a nature lover.
+ + + UPDATE 24/7/2015 + + +
So, this happened:
“I fear NOTHING!”
“I AM STEPHEN…”