First off, thanks to all the folks that commented/left encouragement after my last post and/or the folks that made fun of me a lot for it. Its nice to be recognized, even if its for silly meta-diaries about food and authenticity.
Anyway, there was one part of the last post I had to cut out since it didn’t really end up fitting the way I wanted it to, chronicling an important event that happened earlier that week.
Since I was about 10 or 11, some of my favorite animals (to the extent that anyone above the age of 5 can have a favorite anything and mean it) have been birds of prey. All kinds of birds of prey, but particularly hawks. They always gave off this fierce, majestic regality that commanded both respect and admiration. Spotting or hearing a hawk in the real world is much like, I imagine, what running into Daniel Day Lewis in the organic foods aisle is like.
Except hawks can fucking fly. Et tu, Lincoln?
Anyway, for those of you that have ever been to Brandeis University (my home for this summer and many foreseeable summers) you are familiar with how large the wild rabbit population is on this campus. They tend to reproduce like…well, you know, and its always fun to see a little (most likely rabid) cotton tail cross your path throughout the day.
The other day I was walking with a co-worker of mine who spotted it first. “Dude, check THAT out” he said as I followed his gaze to a red-tailed hawk perched in the grass, beak plunging intermittently at its recent catch.
It didn’t take long to realize one of our furry pals had met his or her grizzly end not too long prior to our discovery (the entrails splattered on the nearby concrete were a dead giveaway), but despite this I became transfixed. Two years prior, I almost had a nervous breakdown on a boardwalk in Los Angeles when a few fishermen let their full morning’s catch flop to death on the dock (before proceeding to have fish and chips for lunch…no, the irony is not lost on me either), yet here I was watching an adorable bunny be devoured by an animal historically deserving of my utmost respect.
I stood there for ten minutes until a passing car scared the bird off for good.
It was at once a mortifying and entirely beautiful spectacle. My normally pacifistic ways faded into the background – they simply did not apply. This was nature, raw and wonderful and in vivid point of fact. As much as we occasionally wish it wasn’t true, this was simply how things were. “Dust to dust, circle of life” said my colleague as we went back to doing whatever it was we were supposed to be doing.
It got me thinking.
More to come.