Thoughts-a-drift

I sat basking in the sun yesterday afternoon at the lakeside. Watching and observing all the English folks soaking up the sunshine. The smooth breeze whipped up my silky legs and kissed my thighs. I gazed across the lake and everything was clear and fresh.

Watching the kids play and feed the swans was like watching a dance movement full of energy and excitement. The kids had little sun blotched redness across their cheeks and noses. And I wondered why parents allowed their precious, smooth-baby faces to burn like that and have them wondering around without hats on. The sun is harsh this side of the world, especially near such a vast amount of water. And with the news statistics of skin cancer being so high I must wonder where everyone’s mind is at. I sighed because it was pointless wondering this lacking in the human mind. I watched the swans that swam and frolicked all day in the lake waves and wondered if they could burn or get skin cancer.

My mind drifted to the thought of what would happen if there were no more swans in the world and the lakesides were empty and abandoned. I wondered what would happen to this place if it was dark and desolate. What would these children do? With this thought pondering my mind I skipped a million light-years and braced the thoughts which had been pronounced to my mind whilst reading ‘The Road’ by Cormack McCarthy. In this book the world becomes desolate and barren. No animals exist, they have died out or been eaten. And at this point of the story, it is about the reality that people eat people.

I wondered if swans would eat each other? There certainly are animals which eat animals but would all species eat their own kind if there was no more food, no vegetation or fish to eat? Or would only some eat their own, like scavenges, while the rest died of starvation? (On my walk back to the hotel after sitting at the lakeside for a long time, I thought about cows or pigs or sheep. I wondered about their brain capacity. I thought about them in comparison to a lion or wolf- a natural born killer versus a grass eater without much skill in killing another. I tended towards the impression that a cow would lay down and die-or eat itself- rather than know how or try to kill another cow. Whereas a lion or hyena or wolf would possibly kill their own kind. As would a dog or a cat, since these are all naturally designed to kill or hunt and have the mental capacity to understand the ‘kill instinct for survival’.) What does hunger do to the living and starving? With this in mind I pondered the English man sitting beside me. Would he eat me if there was no food on earth? We are after all only just animals- we have the same basic, cardinal needs as animals. I wondered if he would eat the English woman beside me on my left. I wondered how we would segregate who we would and would not eat. Would English people only eat Americans and would South Africans only eat Russian or something, as opposed to one race eating its own race or colour or gender or something. In the road woman were used to breed and have babies so that they could be eaten- would we do that too?

In my mind I was saying to myself that ‘I am certain I would not eat another human being’- it was the same determined feeling I had that ‘I will not have an abortion’. These values seemed impeccable and clear to me, firmly entrenched. But what happens in that situation? Do animals kill their unborn babies too- especially if it was a matter of survival? Would a swan squash one of her eggs? Would a female eat out her womb in a desperate attempt not to have her babies? We know full well that animal mothers and fathers of kill their runts because they are just too weak and won't survive anyway, or these runts are simply neglected and left to die. And we eat chicken eggs, ostrich eggs, and fish eggs (caviar). Is this the same as abortion-killing the unborn life, or the unborn potential for life? Is it natural for us, as animals to kill our own; to delete that which we created simply because we do not want, or cannot ‘want’ IT? The fact that a laid egg may not be fertilised is irrelevant in the essence that it is what it represents-or am I wrong? The point is that the process of life has been started in any respect. The chicken doesn’t recognise that it needs a male to ensure that the egg hatches into a chick. It is still representative of a life starting process.

From this trail of thought my mind pondered onto something slightly less morbid. I sat watching a mother feed her little baby boy his dinner in his pram. His name was Lewis. Lewis’ older brothers were at the lake edge feeding swans. I watched as mum ordered Lewis to pay attention to the fact that she was feeding him his dinner which he had to finish. I realised that there is sternness in nature and this runs in all mothers. That in order for life and parenting to flourish well discipline is necessary. The sternness of a mother is nurturing to the young soul, mind and heart. It offers an understanding of stability and consistency which is embellished in unconditional love. I realised that mother’s have the task of multi-tasking: feeding one child their dinner, commanding the other to put his shoes on and watching the third child at the lakeside edge. Somewhere in all of that I seemed to feel that being a mother is about completing a ‘wanted task’ with love and compassion. In essence it comes down to being practical, consistent and almost boring. It is all in the routine of things, the order of life- much like Mother Nature’s cycle.

Dad arrived to join the family. He brought hotdogs for the older boys and mum. Being the good hunter he managed to provide a hearty meal for the evening and all were thoroughly satisfied. And so was I as I watched the ball of flame fall gracefully behind the enormous fells on the other side of the lake. Good night to all and to all, a wonderful good night.