In lieu of the normal Saturday activity, I went down the Colorado river with coworkers this weekend. It was interesting to hang out with a bunch of professors from physical science and hear each of us go on about his or her specialty. What was also interesting was to see the river in its native state more than most people usually do as we saw the river largely without the intrusions of man. We saw an enormous number of birds, ducks, coots, blue herons, osprey, eagles, falcons, and a horde of smaller birds everywhere because the river was largely empty of traffic. In fact, we saw five other humans all day after putting into the river- two campers at the hot springs, two hikers at the hot springs, and one concessionaire in a boat.
Living things exist in a state of competition. Each gully seemed to have its own local flora and fauna, and although we chased ducks down the river all day long, the rest of the birds seemed to return to their haunting or hunting grounds at the first opportunity. As we approached the birds, invading their space, they moved. When we stopped to explore a hot spring and grab a bite, there was a cave swallow that was looking for food, eager to snag some morsel that we dropped. Predatory birds went after other birds, sometimes to drive off competition for food, and other times hoping to make the other birds a meal.
Death is normal, part of life, and all around us. As much as humans fight off and against death, and as much as we like to fight against the death of fuzzy animals and the extinction of special species, one species is always food for another. Creatures that don't eat other creatures eat plants, but most creatures eat each other. Am osprey and the eagle competed for airspace. Later, we watched a peregrine repeatedly divebomb the coots, almost catching them. Towards the end, we happened to investigate a strip of sand and saw a dead swan on the beach. No human did that. Some other animal made it a meal.
Humans disrupt the natural order. We were clearly a force and presence that upset things. Every time an animal or bird moves away from me and wastes energy when I mean no offense, I feel badly. I wished the ducks would fly to the shore rather than moving downstream, only to have to move again. No matter how hard we tried, we were a disruption, distraction, and dissonant force in their day. We meddle, manipulating who lives and dies, propping up weak and dying species. We kill sometimes just for fun, and other times for ourselves but in places among populations that are balanced by other predators besides man. Almost every time I encounter Utahans, they bring their music and their electronics with them and drive away other living things. We are disruptive, and we don't usually see or hear, because we are too loud, too busy, too mobile to be able to usually see things as they are. Even when trying to do right, we change things. One professor remarked when we stopped for lunch, "this would be a nice slot canyon if it weren't basically a large latrine". The waste is buried, but it's so ubiquitous that this region is essentially polluted.
Much of what happens is far beyond our poor power to add or detract. Without men, the world moves forward. In spite of what we do, the world survives, thrives, moves forward, and produces bounty, beauty, and mystery. Sometimes when my compatriots spoke, I didn't understand the things they knew. We are sometimes so arrogant, especially in academia, when no matter how much I know about chemistry that doesn't mean I know any taxonomy, tectonics, astronomy, or mixology. We saw evidence of differential erosion on rock strata that destroys rocks on which humans never tred. We saw tectonic faults that fold, bend, and shatter rocks through which we would have to blast. We were subject to the flow of the river, trapped in the currents sometimes, and forced to navigate around obstacles covered by water earlier in the year. At each outlet of the slot canyons, we saw how despite efforts to clear Tamarix, it grows back and in greater numbers. The world lives on despite man. After we left, I'm sure things returned to their natural way and that animals and plants who do not remember barely registered our passing. What a wonderful world.
No comments:
Post a Comment