There is an inevitable and eternal cycle to events. So wherever we start is arbitrary, because it will be in the middle, end or beginning of the cycle. Here’s where we will start:
— I declare (as I did somewhere in the wilds of this comments section) that I can’t stand going to the zoo. I never have a good time at zoos. Zoos make me depressed. They ALWAYS HAVE, too. So … I walk out of a zoo, and say firmly: “That’s IT. I am NEVER going to the zoo again.” I have been saying “I’m never going to the zoo again” since I was 10 years old.
— Invariably, I cave. Because I need to see animals. I love animals almost more than I love people. I could stand and watch polar bears all day and not yawn ONCE. I would not even have the impulse to yawn. I just love to watch animals doing their thing. So. I cave. I go to the zoo.
— While at the zoo, I suddenly remember: “THIS is why you hate zoos. Sheila … they depress you. EVERY TIME. Why do you keep forgetting??”
— I retain this self-knowledge for a while, I remember that I hate zoos. I am able to resist the call. And so I decline invitations to go to the zoo, I don’t take trips by myself to the zoo – No. I am able to say to myself: “Sheila, zoos bum you out. Don’t go. You won’t have fun. You never do.”
— Invariably, I FORGET this. Because I am dying to see some “wild” animals. I wish I could see giraffes every day. So … I decide to find a better attitude about zoos … and I decide to be calm, and rational … I decide to recite the litany of statements that zoo-lovers have said to me in an endless loop: (“animals are safe in zoos, they don’t know any other life than the one in the zoo, stop anthropomorphizing, Sheila …”) … All of this rationalization works, and I walk through the gates of some random zoo, and within 5 minutes, I think: “THIS is why I hate zoos. Sheila … what are you, nuts? Why do you keep forgetting??”
— Repeat cycle ad nauseum.
All of this is brought on by Stephen’s latest gorgeous photos of his trip to the zoo. It makes my heart ache to see some animals. Those parrots! That baboon monkey guy with the old man’s face. I want to see one!
I can feel the yearning build once again. And so now I know how this all will turn out. Over the next couple of weeks, will come the rationalization phase, where I convince myself that wild animals are happier in zoos than out in the wild. And … well … if there HAVE to be zoos … and if I LOVE animals … isn’t it worth it to feel sad for them a bit, in order to just lay your eyes on them? It will take a couple of weeks, but mark my words: I will eventually talk myself into a trip to the zoo.
Within 5 minutes of entering the zoo, I will be muttering to myself, “Sheila, THIS is why you hate zoos … Honestly, will you ever learn ….”
There is a great zoo in Tama, Japan, where the lions are in this great big park and you walk out over top of them on a little bridge. They have quite a big range.
Not very kid friendly in the spring, though. They don’t last very long, but they make up for quality with quantity.
Now that sounds nice! Much better. I can’t bear to see lions lounging around on, you know, papier mache rocks. It just … I can’t stand it.
I went on a safari in Kenya when my wife was in the peace corps. That was actually almost as depressing as a zoo. Instead of a hundred people staring at lions in a cage, you have a hundred vans following them around.
I don’t think the wild exists anymore. But hopefully, I just haven’t found it.
Oh, they weren’t lounging. Definitely not lounging much. And you shoulda heard the roaring of the male who was locked in the pens and not “on” that day. We were asured that he’d get his, uhm, shot, the next day.
Well, that’s why zoos bum me out. The animals seem completely despondent. And lounge, when they should not lounge. They don’t have the energy to roar anymore.
Oh hell. Don’t get me started. :)
I remember camping in Minnesota – out in the middle of nowhere. We were in an empty campsite, it was October, there were little lakes all around, quiet, we saw aurora borealis, etc. I got up at dawn, and went swimming in one of the lakes. It was so cold that it was barely pleasant. But also exhilarating.
And this mother and baby deer, keeping a close eye on me (at least the mother) strolled down to the water’s edge to have a drink. They kept their distance, if I even BREATHED, the mother looked up at me, but …
As long as I stayed where I was (freezing my ass off in the water), they were okay with sharing space with me.
Then finally I couldn’t bear the cold anymore, so I slowly started swimming back to the shore, and in one movement, like they shared one nervous system – the mother and baby ran away.
I felt like I was in the presence of something divine and perfect. That, to me, is why I love being around animals in their natural habitat. That’s really the only experience I’ve had like that, really. Or the only one that comes to mind.
That’s why I live in the country. My wife has a photo of our backyard with over 90 turkeys in it. And she did not capture the whole flock.
I’ll put up with the coyote / wolf hybrids in the woods behind the house to be able to share moments like that with my kids.
John – beautiful.
There’s a pipsqueak zoo in Green Bay, Wisconsin. One of many exhibits is of a bald eagle, and it is just so damn depressing. This gorgeous bird, stuck on this twig of a “branch”, instead of soaring over some lake, or sitting majestically on a tall limb. He was injured, and unable to fly…so I guess it was either confined to the zoo with loud people staring at him, or a grave consequence.
My Uncle has a cabin in Northern Wisconsin. There are loons (how I love their eerie yet beautiful sound) swimming on the lake, and a few pairs of bald eagles. I remember one year we were on the pontoon boat, and a fair way up in a tree was a bald eagle. Absolutely stunning. Never flinched, though the boat was relatively close to his tree with the motor off so we could just enjoy the moment without any sort of distraction or sound. Eventually he took off, soaring over the lake for several minutes, before perching himself on another tall tree across the lake. He was both powerful yet graceful. It was like something out of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. Absolutely amazing, and it felt as if he let us share his world with him. I felt so lucky to have witnessed this, and whenever I see a bald eagle in a zoo, I think about the one I saw in the wild free in his world verses trapped in ours.
I love aquariums. Not as much walking, a more relaxed feel and there’s always a critter up to something.
The National Aquarium in Baltimore is probably my favorite place in the world.
Oh yes. Aquariums I can do. For some reason, they don’t bother me as much.
Aquariums do a relatively good job recreating a natural habitat, like mini ecosystems. I’ve been to the Shedd’s aquarium in Chicago and one in Pittsburgh that was attached to the zoo, both were very cool.
So what did you think of The Life of Pi?