Visiting the animals at the zoo

I could watch dozens of hours of David Attenborough documentaries sampling pictures of hundreds of fascinating nothing short of the psychedelic creatures that populate or once populated our big blue marble. it would be nothing however like walking up to the animals and see them live, up close, being in their presence.

Being close to those sad majestic odes to beauty and perfection, to their innocence, their beauty their very unhuman shapes sizes colors and demeanour is an experience of mystical proportions to those who can appreciate it, even at a sad place like the zoo.

Exchanging looks with a giraffe, or a llama or dromadary; watching ruminates approach the fence in expectation of a snack; watch parakeets talk among themselves, watching a parrot with fanstastic plummage yawn are all the stuff of fantasy and dreams.

At the zoo, especially in my nook of the woods, however there are other distressing scenes. There was a lion crying, (crying if he is anything like my cat when he cries) imprisoned and pacing in his outer cage to entertain by his mere presence people under the blare of loudspeakers pouring the most obnoxious popular music from the vendors kiosks 5 meters from the fence. This was one of my saddest moments at the zoo.

It is unfortunate this contrast between the glorious feelings I get from being in proximity to such life forms and the inevitable sadness that attends one's entry into any zoo. The story of kidnap and captivity and then being kept for life in poor and highly abusive conditions.

It would be nice to take kids up close to the animals , in the safety afforded by the zoo. But what of the moral responsibility and inescapable guilt and sadness?

I would think of it like taking them to a very special shrine, but in a very dilapidated area. I still think the trip to the zoo is worth it.

I find wonder in the height of the giraffe, the intricate musculature of the dromadary, who ironically approaches in resemblance the computer-generated movies of dinosaurs, in the patient resignation of the pelicans in the searching gaze of a llama or a peacock, or the familial atmosphere in a parakeet house.

Wonder like that to be found when one sits under a few trees, and looks up at the canopy of branches and leaves above, long enough to weep at their beauty, their gentle but unremitting complexity, at the subtlety of their creator.