Wisdom of the woods

Reflections

A little girl was recently heard asking her mother, ‘On which tree do eggs grow?’ So removed is modern life from brown earth and growing things that the children of today are ignorant of facts easily perceived by their counterparts even 50 years ago.

During my childhood, animals and lesser creatures were part and parcel of growing up. Nature was close at hand and having pets of varied kinds an accepted part of living.

What joy, camaraderie and understanding this afforded young minds! Though heartbreaks did come on the way, it was a great fun-path to learning. I well remember the day a beggar came to our door holding a baby squirrel in his hands. I pleaded with him to give it to me, but he refused. Perhaps, I thought, a bigger than usual handout would work. It did. Holding my trophy carefully, I went in search of a cardboard box.

This was when I came across another baby squirrel. After placing the first one carefully in the box, I reached out for it. It offered no resistance. Later, I found yet another one on the top of a cupboard. All three were ensconced together in the box. Their mother was nowhere to be seen; it had probably fallen prey to a prowling cat. I fed the little creatures fruit, but the weakest one refused to eat. I then offered it milk in an ink-filler, which it accepted eagerly. A few days later, the other two went their way. They hung around, but did not come when called.

The weakling, however, remained with me, finding an almost permanent perch on my shoulder. It allowed me to stroke its soft and shiny coat and gently run my finger down its fluffy tail. What warm and happy moments we shared! Then came the fateful day when its siblings came calling and enticed it. That evening, it did not come when called. The next morning, I came across a bushy tail. While the other two had escaped, this one, ignorant of the ways of the wild, had fallen victim to an enemy. I shed many bitter tears, but gradually came to terms with the fact that Nature can be as ruthless as she is benign.

In those days, many households kept a cow and ours was no exception. It was housed in a cow-shed and carefully looked after. Its diet, besides hay, consisted of green grass, oilseed cakes and cotton-seed soaked and ground to a gruel. Not only was there an abundance of milk, but also plenty of cream, butter and ghee. Each morning a man hired for this purpose came to milk it. An expert at his job, he completed the task quickly. One teat was reserved for the calf that was tied near the mother, straining at its rope.

When released, it drank its share eagerly. It then pranced about in the garden, tail up in the air. All the cows we had were big but gentle animals. They allowed us, children, to pet and handle them, putting up with our antics with extraordinary calm and patience.

We had many other four-legged friends. Dogs extended the kind of love that breaks all human bounds. Cats taught us how to be affectionate yet independent. Kittens showed the delight simple things can bring. A ball tied to a string and dragged about could occupy them for hours. A feathered creature displayed what are considered human emotions. A magpie robin had become tame enough to come indoors in search of scraps.

One day it disappeared. Two months later it came back with a family of three in tow. It had come to show off its brand new brood. Even crows, when fed, would show a friendly side. They could set up an insistent cawing when strangers came to the door.

Life today has changed drastically. It leaves no room for our erstwhile dumb friends. We have snatched their habitat from them and think nothing of exterminating them. Pets are confined to cramped surroundings and dragged on short leashes by uncaring servants. Many species of animals have all but disappeared.

We live an arid life surrounded by virtual reality. We have forgotten that the earth belongs to many species. We need to learn the wisdom of the woods, the sincere love of a dog, the simple playfulness of squirrels and the parental devotion of birds. Most of all, we need the serenity with which the so-called lesser beings accept life.