Talk to the Animals the Birds and the Trees

I was getting home late last night from my wonderful walk in nature which had been the usual to do every day for many years, although this one was really special.

It was the beginning of hearing every one talk, not just the animals I was taking care of. It was going to be my last walk near this place I had taken care of the animals on that farm.

 

Walking up the top of the hill being a long walk every day, treasuring the views even on the last day of those three month. I will remember the view from the top, for the rest of this life if not longer, that’s how glorious it looked to me. I was sure the birds and that specific tree agreed with my thoughts. As I could not capture it all on my camera I soaked it into my long term memory so I would never forget the magnificence of it.

 

The sea in the far distance only my eyes could capture, the hills called mountains in this country and the vast, green pastures of old established sheep and beef farms. I came to realize that all those different ways of life styles I have come to love just for their own expressions. With people I loved once and the ones I did not like one iota. Some of the ones I did not like at first I have become to love and accept, for what they wanted, it was obviously the best they could receive or create.

Some people’s dreams are very small and so simple,  while others live in a beautiful home on top of the mountain with this magnificent view every day and through the nights, seeing the spectacle of the city lights. Some of those small-dreams-people got stuck in those limiting dreams, having no way to even thinking about getting out of it. It is a petty that so many of us are tied to the spot we are born in and could not even try to imagine to live anywhere else.

They grew roots, that would never let them move away even when on a holiday they got homesick, making it impossible to grow new roots in any other place. Home is all there is, as they are also very judgmental to any other life style a kind of narrow-minded-ness, is holding them back.

They cannot uproot that tree that grew new leaves every year but was still the same tree in the same place. Change of climate for the little tree that had been planted where it is still sitting now, but so many of the other trees have grown much taller and are almost concealing it’s existence.

 

They can see that there is another world from the one right around them and dream about being able to up themselves, grabbing some of that big wide world out there, while the others are stuck in the same old, same old.

Become a bird, one of those sitting on the trees, flying every day to different places and learn about those people’s ways of life. Telling the tree all about the happenings strange and wonderful.

Supplying the daily news, making the old tree wish it could move too but it’s too late now, the roots are too deep, the fear of the unknown too scary. Better stay put.

Spinning the tales of what may have been and what they missed out on, is all that’s left. Which they got by with very nicely thank you, all their life anyway. So why change what works? Are the people changing all the time going places, happier than I am? They ask the birds that bring the news. But they don’t really know because Birds do not judge.

 

There are so many different ones, sometimes they’re present and other times we do not see them for a very long time. “Things are happening you know, because we are telling you about it,” the birds twitter.

‘What you make of it is all yours, we are never in one place for very long we know that we are different to you.” They tell the tree, “we  just go about our business and sometimes we pick up great news so we cantell youguys up here what is happening down there. Of course there are also different animals down in the valley, than up here. “

 

“Animals humans feed off, they grow to kill and eat the kill.”

 

“Gruesome the trees chant in one voice. Why would they want to do that? What’s wrong with eating what they can grow in their gardens?”

“Not many people have gardens anymore now,” the birds tell the trees, “liking meat better than what grows in gardens and on trees. At least most of them do. There is a  minority of people who don’t eat meat, almost one in a million.”

 

“Oh no, I believe there are more than that” utters the wise old Owl on the tree, who has been awakened by that chatter.

“No one eats us, that’s for sure.” All the other birds chime in giving the Owl support, “me neither, me neither.”

“I don’t need to fly far from my house,” she recons, “that is why they call me the wise old Owl. I sit and observe life around here. It is no different to where you guys fly every day. It is just as busy and no one stays in one place for very long either. Every one hunts something or some one for food. Every one has to kill for food. Every one has to kill to eat.”

“I don’t kill any one for my food,” the little rabbit shyly contributes to the conversation.

“Yes you do,“ the wise old Owl insists. “You just don’t see all the little insects in the grass you eat, which I spot from up here with my big eyes. You eat all them as well, “meat and veg”, he laughs.

 

So the little rabbit sits thoughtfully for a while looks at the grass he was just going to eat, but he cannot see any insects, nor hear them, shaking his head, then happily hopping away to eat some more of those luscious greens.

The wise old Owl has the last say;

”what I cannot see don’t not exist,” smiling at the rabbit with empathy. “Main thing is that he is happy, for one day he will get eaten by some one,” she’s muttering to herself.

“It’s called the food chain after all and is something that goes round and round, and is that long it goes right around the world many times.”

 

“Now you are spinning your tale old Owl,” the Magpie jumps in, ”but we love your tales, they put us to sleep while you are keeping a watch out for the nightlife. “

“The world is still a great place to be and there is plenty of food for everyone,” say those sparrows beforetucking in for the night.

 

“We don’t ever need to travel far either, the humans create more than enough food droppings for all of us, we don’t hardly have to fight for anything anymore. Apart from the cats we have no enemies, that is why there are so many of us, happy, healthy and having fun.”

That is the chatter of the sparrows, they always seem to thrive, wherever one travels to they are present already. Maybe they are just street smart, while the old Owl is wise and knows it all?”

 

The Owl  who was on watch concentrating on her eyesight, has stopped listening to the birds chatter. The rabbit has finished with his meal for today, the sparrows had long gone to sleep while the wood pigeon and the magpie were still trying to figure out the world but did not come to much of a resolution and called it a day.

The old Owl had still listened in a little while, thinking to her self “don’t know why they bother, if the world needed changing it would not be done by any of us on this tree. But then who am I to say that, I only know about night-lifeup here on this tree and maybe a little further around it, when there is so much more to the world.

 

We may also consider the cows, dogs and horses, the sheep, goats and pigs that all live on this hill, the chickensdogs and cats, leave alone the humans who are eventually responsible for what happens in this world. What can a wise old Owl contribute apart from night watch and a few wise remarks, that hardly anyone would ever listen to in the first place. Yes we animals if ganged up together we would probably out-vote the humans, just consider the Sparrows alone, there must be many billions of them all over the world.

 

Birds alone may be grater than the amount of humans all together. Well it can get lonely up here and who can blame me for spinning my tales, when the nights are dark and most humans are a sleep it is so quiet one simply has to start spinning tales. So the old Owl was muttering to her self while even the tree had gone to sleep, peace had fallen over the land on this blessed hill.

What a glorious place to be, I am truly grateful for all my companions, be they birds, bugs or neighboring trees, this is truly a blessed place to be. I will not shout my sounds out over the land for now, while everything is so miraculously beautiful. I am truly a lucky, wise, old Owl to be home on this hill and this wonderful evergreen tree.

 

I was born up here and will die up here, I will never need to go anywhereelse but be around here, checking out that all is well. I never need tofly about, collecting information and gossip to bring up here, that’s the sparrow’s job to do, they know where to be at the right time, and where food and entertainment is available and that is just about all they can put into they’re little brains.

They are also cleaning up a lot of trash all over the world. They keep cleaning up after the humans who create the most pollution of all species on this planet. Yes, all animals and especially birds are keeping this planet clean at least as much as possible. “

So as the moon was coming up and down again the sun was not faraway from showing her smiling face, the old Owl was getting ready to settle in for her sleeping time. The birds would start their morning concerts, little rabbits would hop out of their burrows and daylight was just popping up a tiny bit to see whether it was time to take over from the darkness of the night,  letting night make room for another day.

 

That was and is the cycle of life for those creatures up on this hill with the most glorious view over the land below and the sea in the distance. Peace and Blessings are falling over the hills every single night while the old-wise Owl is holding watch. Where the stars shine brightly and the fog at times dampens all the noises from the city below. It truly is what one could call paradise on earth.

 

Just a little further down, the city people are still working right through the night and young ones partying, car lights illuminating the country roads, only a very short distance away from this paradise, “they never know what they were missing out on” the old Owl talking in her dreams. “Never take the time to even drive up that hill, leave alone having a quiet and slow walk up to those  marvelous  trees  with  the  busy  birds   and  the  wise old Owl, they do not even know of our existence.

 

They have no time to find out, too busy to talk on theirmobile devises, read on them while walking and or driving, suffering from something that is called “Fear of missing out”, of all the unimportant things in life, having not the slightest idea just like the rabbit eating all those bugs with a portion of grass unaware of it, so they are unaware of the beauty of this planet. One can see the wise Old Owl has not even a thought to waste on that we needed to change the world. It gets changed by every generation on default.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Annamarie Muirhead