Contradictions

I realize it’s lame to take pictures at the zoo. It’s not exactly “wildlife photography.” It’s “captive creature photography.”

But still, it’s a way of taking the experience home with you. Last week, we went with some home schooling friends to the Syracuse Zoo. It’s a great zoo, full of happy and healthy animals. Some were playing “King of the Pool” on a hot day.

And even the inevitable sleepers looked contented.

Most of the penguins were shooting nimbly around in the water.

But this one taught me that even in the sociable penguin community, there are introverts.

Naturally, we visited the aviary twice. Not only are we bird people in general, but the exotic bird room provides a less bounded experience of the wild than the rest of the zoo. We walked through the tropical habitat and enjoyed the whoosh of wings over our heads and the sight of avian wonders unfamiliar to us, close enough to touch.

Some of them found us pretty amusing.

Others seemed like super-vivid dream versions of local birds. This Troupial reminded us of a Baltimore oriole, but bigger and brighter.

And this Luzon Bleeding Heart Dove faintly suggested a rose-breasted grosbeak on steroids.

There were lots of gorgeous birds, but Simon the macaw’s personality stood out. At first, he seemed to like us.

But suddenly…

On the way home, in a congested section of highway, a pigeon was wandering, disoriented, in the shoulder. It was toddling in the wrong direction, out into traffic. It may have been hit, and dazed. I swerved a little to avoid hitting it, but the last I saw of it in my rearview mirror, it was in direct line with the front tire of the car behind me. I looked away, wincing.

It’s happened several times lately. I’ve seen animals in desperate straits on roadways, and I’ve been unable to do anything about it. What would I do if I could? I’m not sure. At the least, I’d move them out of harm’s way, or try to get them to help. But on a highway with both lanes full, there is no stopping.

I was struck — am struck — by the contrast between the carefully kept and fenced-in beauties we had seen at the zoo, and the common pigeon mowed down on the roadway on the way home. There is a degree of unavoidable brutality built into our systems at times.

I imagine a world in which birds on the road and birds in the zoo — and all the other living things, human and nonhuman alike, that surround me — could be taken into account and respected. Yet I’m sure that the contradictions of the present system run all through me, in ways I’m aware of and ways that are hidden to me.