In Surburbia, Denmark, where I live, the nature that surrounds me has been completely domesticized. Tamed. I am surrounded by little combed squares of grass and trees with designer flowers arranged in fashionable colour schemes. There are no really dangerous or venemous animals. Well. We do have slugs called “killer slugs” but all they really kill is lettuce.
I am, however, at times, confronted with the brutal savageness of nature. Like when my cat catches a baby bird, all round and soft and Disney-like. He will then play with it for hours before he kills it – all with the horrid crys of the parents that fly desperatly about, as they watch, in what I can only imagine, is horror.
The savageness of nature is lurking just around the corner.
This would be the lesson for my acquaintance, who was taking a walk on beach. It was a sunny, beautiful day. She was happily in love with her new puppy – a teacup chihuahua. Life was beautiful right up till the moment a hawk came down, struck like a lightning and flew away with her prize-dog. The dog went from being darling Tinkerbell with huge eyes, pink little outfits and “the cutest personality” to simply being lunch for a nest full of greedy chicks.
And last week in a Swedish zoo, a 30-year old female zookeeper was attacked by a pack of wolves she had reared from they were cubs. They ate from her dead body for an hour before someone could get to her.
The savageness of nature is lurking just around the corner.
That’s what I was thinking this morning.
And then I shaved my legs.
Share this!
