011-Under the Wings of These Beautiful, Flying Things
Monday Updates: On the backwaters of the Mississippi
“It’s unusual for the waters to be this quiet,” he said. We were on the Mississippi back currents, and bald eagles soared above us. The sun was stern and reflected from the water to our cheeks, coloring the four of us cheerfully pink.
These backwaters are the home of deer that swim, of ducks, and geese. And within the past decade, pelicans have also begun to nest in these waters.
"We ain’t have ‘em ten, fifteen years ago,” I was told.
Once we were on the water, we watched. Our eyes soaked in our surroundings, enjoying the crystal of the water on this perfect fall day. The light shimmered playfully on the surface of the water. We wouldn’t need diamonds if we could keep that kind of light with us.
We would slow down the rudder, trying to sneak up on flocks of geese. Once we would get close enough we would crank the lever. Our heads would be flung back with the sudden speed, and we’d find ourselves under the wings of these beautiful, flying things.
We were on the waters for hours, and once we were on our way back to shore we tried to remove the webs that flying spiders attached to our bodies. Bright green algae clung to the bottom of the boat as we left, and we drove back home.
I believe there was the distant sound of a gunshot. I didn’t hear it, but I heard the conversation that followed it.
”They might be huntin’.”
“No, Wisconsin ain’t open.”
“Well, they best not be huntin’.”
There was a garage sale next door once we were back. I decided to take a peek and discovered a small herd of black cows behind a fence, right next to the display of baby clothes and old unwanted furniture.
I sometimes hear these cows in the morning, and I was pleased to finally see them. It is always nice to put a face to the voice, and I thought of asking if I could come by after the weekend to photograph them.
I started talking to the people and told them it was nice to see the cows here. “They’re off to be butchered in the morning,” he replied curtly. My heart sank. I gulped and walked towards the fence, leaning over it.
In a small group of five, they stuck together tightly. They stood side by side, eyeing me in unison. Hundreds of flies surrounded their faces, infesting their noses and eyes, causing tears to stream down the furry faces of these gentle giants.
They were beautiful and playful, and I was trying to understand how I felt, knowing that by tomorrow these animals were going to die.
“They won’t feel much pain, will they?” I asked quietly.
The woman stood next to me, clutched the fence, “No no, they won’t feel anything.”
FIND ME ON
Monday Updates is a section of this blog where I’m letting my hair down, figuratively. I am often preoccupied with getting things perfect, rather than simply sharing and enjoying the process and talking about life. Instead of the tradition of hating Mondays, I’m going to try to associate them with creative freedom and allow myself to speak my mind without the worry that a perfectionist usually has. Things here may be a bit disjointed, incomplete, and occasionally nonsensical, but they may also be playful, curious, and whimsical. I will do my best to make it more of the latter.
Aw, that's heart-wrenching; I have so much respect for farm animals, all that they do for humanity. I am not a vegetarian or anything (I think there is a righteous way to eat meat), but lately I have been thinking of how to better honor the animals I do eat.
I hope all the farm practices were cool, if not, make a fuss! Either way, thanks for this reflection.