Skip to main content

If Only We Were Worthy of It

There is no better way to intimately get to know a new environment than through a safari. The wide open truck literally incorporates you into the beautiful surroundings to be a part of the biome you are observing. Animals, plants, river beds and small ponds all gave clues to a holistic message from the environment. So let me do my best to describe it all to you.

The ground is layered with a sand-like silt--not susceptible for large plant growth. The ground seems dry and arid, but unlike a desert and not dismilar to the flowing planes of Wyoming. This sand is very mobile, moving across the ground, layering the edges of the paved roads we traveled on. The sand produces a semi-long yellow-green grass, which does well to cover the whole floor of the biome. The thin grass grows tall in places, short in others, mostly due to access to water. Looking out across the horizon, medium sized bushes sprinkle the land, spaced out relatively frequently, but not completely covering all we can see. These round bushes are rounded and the tangled branches form a large mess of brown limbs and green leaves. They grow perhaps to 6-10 ft--no larger. Anything larger than this (such as trees) is sporadically placed throughout the landscape. Large vegetation thrives in the large dried up river beds throughout the park. This is where large trees grow rampantly, more similar to the deciduous forests back home. 

This is the scene in which the animals interact. Elephants, perfectly serene but capable of destruction. Impala, the food of the biome for many of the top tier predators. Giraffe, awkwardly situated near the large vegetation to eat. Leopard, sleeping under a small tree. Rhino, escaping extinction everyday due to threats from poachers. I was told I will have to explain to my children one day what a rhino looks like because there will be no more rhino to observe--a sad story of the destructive nature of humans. We witnessed water buc, hippopotamus, kudu, and much more. And it was fascinating to enter into the life of the biome for a short while. The stark reality of the situation--that the animals were wild, the plants and trees native--propelled the parks beauty in my mind. And I struggled not to think of the land and animals as exotic--opting to realize that this biome is as natural and present as the nature back home. We were simply observers of this nature, leaving it exactly how we found it. What a great lesson: to simply witness something, not morphing it or perverting it for our own gain, but simply to be in the presence of it, to appreciate it for face-value.

I'll leave you with an excerpt from Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire I saw a friend post that I felt to be appropriate: "But the love of wilderness is more than a hunger for what is always beyond reach; it is also an expression of loyalty to the earth, the earth which bore us and sustains us, the only home we shall ever know, the only paradise we ever need — if only we had the eyes to see. Original sin, the true original sin, is the blind destruction for the sake of greed of this natural paradise which lies all around us — if only we were worthy of it."

Until next time,

Jacob F. Maestri

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Thinking On A Plane / Inequality

Thinking On A Plane: Monday, May 15th 03:30 If you are anything like me, when you find yourself on a long flight you do a lot of thinking. Mostly about stupid stuff like: "why did God make raisins? That was a dumb move" or "wow, I'm in a steel tube darting through the air at 600 mph." But, then again, you think about important things. You think about your mom because its Mother's Day. And then you think about James Taylor and her obsession with him. You look out the window and see the vast ocean before you. You think about what that means and how you can't think of a good enough answer. You think about that song "Oceans" and then about Todd Fernandez (of course.) You think about how cold that dark blue water must be and how great the warmth in this steel carcass really is. You think about how eventually you'll see the African mainland and how you'll probably be disappointed and unimpressed because it will look just like home--g
1 comment
Read more

Smack of Humility

I'm always amazed to realize how little I actually know. Yes, I do occasionally get smacked in the face with a dose of humility and come to terms with my lack of knowledge. I had this (now familiar) moment of epiphany this weekend while at a pre-departure meeting for South Africa. I think back to before I left for Rome and I especially think of my familiarity with Roman history before I left. We are taught these things in school—Julius Caesar, the Pantheon, the Coliseum, and much more—and they hold a privileged spot in our Western consciousness. But, I was still amazed to be humbled by the complexity and relevance of Roman history. The history of Rome was like a single tapestry, albeit with tears and rips, that sewn together make a profound history. My smack of humility came in a realization that South African history is not dissimilar to this ideal of Roman history. South Africa, too, can be displayed as a singular tattered tapestry, torn by war and violence, frayed by th
Post a Comment
Read more

Final Day

After a short Uber yesterday, we found ourselves at the trailhead to hike up Table Mountain, the iconic backdrop for the city of Cape Town. After a long stare up the ragged edge of the cliffs, we started along the trail. It was arduous and breath-taking (literally). For the first hour of the hike, visibility was clear, expectations were high, and altogether we were in good spirits. However, just like with any long hike, about halfway up I started to become a sentimental pastoralist, beginning to feel comically and ironically close to the nature surrounding me. I  took in the vista with hope and enthusiasm as the skyscrapers below were becoming smaller and smaller.  Just as I was settling into this mindset a sudden fog developed at the base of the mountain. The mist slowly rose to our elevation and overcame everything around us, blocking out the world beyond a ten-foot radius. And I was disappointed--this meant the view from the top would be like staring at a blank sheet of paper excep
Post a Comment
Read more