A Summer Evening Walk

It is about half past seven one summer evening in Alex. I set out for a walk from my home. I have finished my evening ‘tea’ (the Aussie last meal of the day) a while ago. It is still light out. The sun shines low on the horizon, casting long shadows and a golden glow over the browned grass on the hillside slopes and paddocks. A lot of dark green trees still cover the scene. I walk up a hilly rise. Within a short distance I am above most of the houses in the valley. As I climb every step, it seems that all the hills surrounding Alexandra rise up quickly along with me. It is an illusion that can be explained by science – it’s the same as the illusion of the moon or the sun following you everywhere you go. It happens with big distant objects.

The sun is setting in the west and a full moon is rising in the east. I get a spectacular view of the undulating land and a cradle like valley that seems to cuddle our little town. It is actually well spread out if one looks at properties that fall within the town limits. It is cool, the air clear, there are sounds of birds and animals. The kookaburras are done laughing for the day. Some birds have returned to their trees or nesting areas while some are still working on their ‘tea’. Others are returning from eating out – most of the birds seem to eat out every day! No cooking at home involved! Some exotic looking birds that I cannot identify are flying higher up. The coolness of the air is invigorating.

I pass by a fenced, hilly paddock on one side of the road. There are some sheep and a couple of llamas at the far end. There is a flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos digging up their meal on the ground closer to me. There are some pink and grey galahs further up to one side. As I approach, close to the paddock, I see the cockatoos looking warily at me. One of them squawks, screeches loudly and flies away. The others continue with their foraging, but move away. The galahs too, much further away from me, move even further away.  There are a few magpies who go about their business without too much worry, just keeping an eye out and getting out of the way. The sheep and the llamas, however, see me coming from a distance and start to bleat and move towards me. They form a close huddling group and it seems like they are greeting me loudly. I feel good. They come more than half-way down the paddock and watch me intently. I stop by only a little while and they start to come closer with their ‘baa-baas.’ It is only after they see I am not there to supply them with feed or water that they stop. As I move away, they say something I interpret as “Hey, why did you waste your and our time coming up here if you have nothing to offer.”  They slowly start to go back to their regular grazing and huddling.

I take in the beautiful scenery of the big, spread out houses, the land and the little dams with water in them, making them into beautiful little lakes. I see some other wild little creatures – rabbits, among them dashing off as they spy me.

It strikes me that all the creatures that still live wild and free, not depending on humans for food and protection shy away from us. They may struggle with no guarantee of a meal or life until the end of the day, but they keep away from us with justified caution. It is the animals that we humans depend upon for our food and those that we control totally, that move towards us at the sight of a human. I have observed this as I pass by a paddock with cows – they too come towards humans by default, it is only when they recognise it is not a person who wants to do something for them that they go back to their business. When I see a paddock with deer, they run away from me as I approach. They go a bit further and then look back from the safety of distance to satisfy their natural curiosity to see who this stranger is. All animals do seem to have this curiosity, just like any of us.

It is interesting that the very creatures that we really want for ourselves as food that we have made totally dependent on us - for their food, protection and survival. Their basic instinct has been changed over thousands of years. They seem to realise, there is no way out or they are ignorant of the fact that we actually need them more than they need us. They may be able to graze in a paddock or the wild and survive, but when they see a human, they know it is possible this is the person that might give them a feed, water or something else, or let them out of or in a paddock. They are the ones that ‘welcome’ us by default, by force of habit.

It is not too different even among different humans – people that have been totally subjugated actually put on a greater show of welcome to their conquerors than their peers. I have observed this in real life.

I walk for a while longer. The shadows start to lengthen quickly and the golden glow becomes even more mellow and beautiful. The brighter stars and planets start to show. The shadows of the hills behind me are falling on the hills ahead of me. It gets cooler. I head towards home as the sky starts to darken and the moon seems to get brighter. I reach home and feel like a warm, filling drink. I make myself one, drink it and settle down in front of the computer to write this piece.


Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2012
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