I came across a heartwarming news report recently that reminded me of some wonderful things that I too have experienced interacting with nature.
Gentle Giant
Several years ago, while snorkeling in the lower reaches of Blue Spring Run here in Florida I had a wonderful encounter. It was during my days as a Park Ranger. During the slow time of the year, when not as many visitors were in the park, we would do clean ups of the Spring Run.
I was taking my time diving down to the bottom picking up litter, such as bottles, cans, and plastic. I’d return them to the surface and deposit my handfuls into an anchored canoe and return for more. While at the bottom retrieving another item, I had the sensation of something near me. I turned my head and there was this huge Manatee right beside me looking at me. The sudden realization was a bit of a start to me. I must have let out some air bubbles. The Manatee kind of cocked its head and gazed at me like my dog sometimes does when she’s trying to figure out what I said.
I’d worked with these creatures for years, monitoring them, interpreting to visitors what they were doing, but never had I been this close to one. Controlling my breathing, I too cocked my head and did a Vanna Wave. To my surprise, the denzian approached me and rolled its’ head near my hand. Like mental telepathy, I knew what this mammal wanted. Reaching out with my hand I gentling rubbed the leather-like skin behind its eye. The Manatee turned even more for me to rub more surface area and I obliged. Manatees are endangered and we advised people not to touch them so I decided my interaction had best end before the two of us were noticed.
I slowly backed away from the Manatee and waved goodbye. I could have sworn it winked back at me as we parted company.
Horse Sense
Another experience I had with a large animal was with our horse. Forever Young was a fourteen-year-old gelding quarterhorse. He came into our lives strangely enough as the result of a stop at a garage sale. My wife, who is an equestrian, noticed there was tack and other riding items for sale in this particular garage. She asked the obvious question, do you have a horse? The home owner referred us to her fenced-in backyard and there he was. Of course my wife popped the other obvious question, so now you know how we got the horse.
Well, one of the things I did at the barn where Forever was boarded was cleaning him after my wife or daughter rode him. Cleaning was about all I was bold enough to do at first because this horse was fourteen hands high, alot taller and bigger than a Manatee. For some time I think Forever could sense my apprehension around him. He’d ignore me when I initially tried leading and grooming him. He was especially devilish when I cleaned his hooves.
I’d become confident enough to handle his hooves. Sensibly positioning myself safely to the side, in case he decided to kick at me, I’d lean up against him with my back to him and pull up a hoof. The hind quarters were the trickest but I was able to do it without incident. The front quarters were where he had his fun with me.
Positioning myself in a similar fashion as with his hind quarters, I’d align myself beside his neck and go for the hoof. There I was working the pick and brush on his hoof and shoe. As I brushed away, Forever would begin to lean against me. Imagine several hundred pounds slowly bearing down on your shoulder!
I’d look up at him and he’d have his own neck and head turned looking at me. He’d wink those big brown eyes of his and almost seemed to be smiling showing his teeth. I had to laugh. He was playing with me and it was the beginning of a warming in our relationship that lasted another couple of years. Eventually, we would come to lean on each other and we shared some great memories together.
These are but two of the instances of many interactions and experiences I have had with nature. Each of them have been a sort of unspoken converation, an understanding and accepting bonding of sorts. There is something special about nature. I’m glad I can take the time to notice and listen. I hope you do too.
Life Outside The Window 