The Wilds of the Animals - Or Angry Rioters

So, ..................a huge sigh.  I've been thinking about animals.  Our move to the country has been enlightening to say the least.  I have no television, cable reception, and my phone gets Internet, but it drains the battery, and I have failed to master pecking out messages on a tiny keyboard.
Every morning, I drive 8 miles to a local grocery, café, etc to plug into an outlet and get my addiction.  It's brutal. 

Without modern technology, I have been blessed with an abundance of time to enjoy nature in all its glory.  I take the time to listen the birds, or the sound of the wind as it passes through the tall grass.  It's mesmerizing.  Deer amble through the hayfield.  Other small creatures make their way through adjacent fields, and the river gives passage to the trout and all life in the small piece of heaven we reside on.   The wilds of the Rocky Mountains go on about their lives all around us.  We are but a tiny, almost invisible spec of pollen in the big picture.

I look at the animals and what they must endure to ensure their survival.  They are tough.  If roads, cars and hunters weren't a daily source of turmoil, animals are part of the huge cycle of life.  Eat, or be eaten.  They are smart.  They survive against odds that mankind can't even begin to fathom. 

And now we come to the segment of "angry rioters".  Some refer to the rioters, acting like goons as animals.  I believe that is an insult to animals.  Goons destroying property.  Goons on the freeway.  Goons rioting.  All because the justice system worked.  A jury found Zimmerman not guilty on the charges brought forth by the State of Florida.  Color seems to fall into everything nowadays.  Its repugnant, stale and nauseating.  Get over it all ready. 

I watch the animals in the fields.  I see the wind rush through the cottonwoods.  Today, a warm sunny day in the Rocky Mountains, I am once again reminded at the terrors and dangerous obstacles the animal kingdom must face.  A dead deer on the side of the road, victim to a car.  I sigh at the realization that animals face far greater troubles than an idiotic goon rioting on Interstate 10 in Southern California. 


"...With carved bird, saint, and suns the wrackspiked maiden mouth
Lops, as a bush plumed with flames, the rant of the fierce eye,
Clips short the gesture of breath.
Die in red feathers when the flying heaven's cut,
And roll with the knocked earth:
Lie dry, rest robbed, my beast.
You have kicked from a dark den, leaped up the whinnying light,
And dug your grave in my breast."

Dylan Thomas