Every now and then, some of us long for a release from the strain, confusion and anxieties of the modern urban life. On those occasions, I would like to recommend the Norwegian mountains to sooth the soul and lighten the spirit. Here you’ll find Mother Nature at her most grand, with jagged cliffs, wide open spaces and crystal clear skies, carrying the faint sound of bells from cattle and sheep grazing – plus the high-pitched scream from a bird that scares the living holy beejezus life-crap out of us as we unknowingly pass its nest.
Now, what gave the bird-brain the idea to build a nest right outside our door step, is lost to us. But, live and let live, we say and carry on with our own business – busy, busy, busy doing nothing but spending our days in the arms of the prev. men. Mother Nature.
Then, in lack of drama and action, the nest comes into focus as the new reality soap. It is revealed that there are two birds guarding the nest. A seemingly happy, heterosexual couple with keen parental instincts. Later on, the story goes that there is only one hatched offspring in the nest, and its size and color suggest that it is not the couple’s biological heir! Scandal, suspense and mysteries!
Each revelation brings forth new questions:
– What kind of birds is it anyway?
– No idea.
– Why has only one egg hatched?
– Beats me.
– If the birds abandon the nest, should we feed the baby with swatted flies?
– Will he eat that? I think the flies need to be fresh. Y’know, alive, when he feeds.
– You mean, like, he’s a vampire?
– Yuk! That’s revolting.
Ah, the simple life in the countryside. Yet so darn complicated. Have we left the urban jungle to just to be defeated by another, more primitive, one? Well, not for long. As even in the wild, we can get access to a petroleum aggregate, mobile wireless network and a laptop, and – wham – you’re back in the global village, hooked up on the worldwide web, sucked through the tubes and tunnels along with the 1’s and 0’s.
Strolling back out on our doorstep, we almost get scalped by one of the parenting birds attacking from the air. But now we know. We have extorted the birds and nest of their secrets. They no longer behold any questions and worries to us.
And, perhaps like the birds, we feel a bit robbed.
_ _ _
Blog of Trifles 