Later the next morning Edwina appeared followed by two humans. One was short and blond with dark eyes. He might have been four years old -- just the same age as Cawlin, but older than many other sensible birds. The other was tall and thin with brown hair and green eyes speckled with gold. Their skin was golden brown from the sun. It is a nice shade that can be reached by some of their kind. The colour reminds me of ducklings, but, of course, the ducklings are so much cuter than any human could ever aspire to be. They both looked excitedly around. Edwina Cleverbrain immediately found the secret rooms that I had hidden so carefully behind vegetation, and started eating her way around. It was still very hot outside, and the tall grass and the presence of the water provided just the right amount of coolness for a goat to be at its most comfortable. The children stepped about. I felt like the featherless creatures would when cows enter their houses, but then I remembered I promised Mother Cleverbrain to be kind.
In my deep philosophical mind a parallel appeared. Humans still sing songs and have poems with cows, and have books that make cow noises for their children, but I see very few of the creatures about. Note that they even have ducks in some of their songs. I don't like to mention it because we are mostly misrepresented as brainless, fat creatures that make strange noises I would not even recognize. Our only abilities they say are to swim and eat. Nowadays, most domestic animals are locked up, and can no longer stampede through people's houses. Those joys are long gone. Humans have also destroyed the habitats of the wild-life so that they can eat almost all the food they produce. Then when there is nothing left to do, they lock themselves up, too. One sees very few humans on the loose. These two are the exception, not the norm.
Mother Cleverbrain thinks the love for shinny things, which crows also have, is at the bottom of this. Humans spend their days walking about with shinny, mirror-like objects in their hand and stare at them all day long. I now start to understand Cleverbrain's worries. The only birds that do nothing are the ones that are dead. People want to have nothing to do so that they spend all their time with their shinny things. This means that they want everything around them to be dead or close to dead. Strangely enough this extends even to their own species. They want no children to worry about so that even they become close to dead since without the little ones there is no future only a past. They use a combination of poisons, rocks and plastics to achieve such almost dead states in their yards, on their streets, in their houses, and in their garden and fields. Their house are not cool like the rooms on my island. They are surrounded by some black stuff, which they call asphalt, and by concrete, which is a white rock-like material. When it's warm outside, these heat up to become very hot warming everything around them like a fire would, which we, animals, are so afraid of. Then the humans complain they are too hot, which makes so little sense. But then little makes sense when you do nothing.
While I was analyzing the future of the world, the children built a dam. They pulled two very large, heavy branches together in the middle of the river and surrounded them with rocks and sand. Then they pulled plants out from the shores of the island and planted them in their dam. It's quite effective, and it looks natural. They'd make good beavers. One big snake has stopped and is looking to make a home there. Some of the fish swim to the dam to take a look. Some turn around, but some go into the dam. It could be quite a nice place to sit by and wait for tasty treats.
Now they are sitting on the rocky beach. They tie pieces of wood together with short, black wire to make toy boats. I wonder if they could tie up my floating nest to make it solid enough for the trip. Their boats don't float very well. They probably did not get the balance right.
Cawlin is looking at them carefully. He picks long pieces of though grass and repeats the tying process he just observed the children do. The bigger boy points at Cawlin and laughs. The other one makes some strange squeky sounds. They must be human speach. Cawlin tells me they said they aknowledge his buildings skills, and are proud to able to teach him something. They are still trying to clear the two chimneys from their house of crow nests. The nests are inside the chimneys and too strong to be broken entirely. Such skills if the material was watertight could help us build a small raft to carry Athena and some of her freshly dried dead mice.
Edwina has increased my room tenfold. It used to have had a subtle entrance that fooled predators. Now, I might as well leave it to her. Five goats could fit in there without effort.
I walk through the clear water of the Bega and step slightly closer to the children. One points at my foot and starts singing. He is clearly tonedeaf. What he says I cannot tell. But Cawlin is translating for me.
Tall tonedeaf human:
"Narcissus you are there
We see you very well
But quite exactly where
We just cannot tell.
When we try to pat your bill
The water is all we touch
Even though you are sitting still
Of you there isn’t much.
Your foot in the water looks broken
Is the water pressure so strong?
You look perfect in the open
Have we got your perfection all wrong?
Your foot seems too thick or too thin
It seems to be closer or further than it is
Did you hurt it when stepping in?
Are you really perfect or are you a wiz?
I look straight from the top and well
Your foot does not appear to be bent
I look from this side and now can tell
It depends on the ray that’s incident.
The bottom of the stream does seem
To be closer than it actually is
I rub my eyes is this a dream
Not sure I’m seeing what I see.
What is actually bending is the light
The word used for it is refraction
Depending on the line of sight
The amount of bend is some fraction."
A croak is heard from behind. Someting continues the song in an old, croaky voice.
Mother Cleverbrain:
"There is Snell’s now famous law
The refractive index is equal to sini/sinr
Explains some of the strange things you saw
Like things looking near when actually far.
A Mirage is an optical illusion
Taking refractions to an extreme
There must be a very good reason
Why things are just not what they seem
When something is not what it seems
Look at it with a critical eye
You will make sense of this
When you understand critical i.
Cawlin: "Mother!"
Mother Cleverbrain: "It's nice to see you, too, Cawlin. I am glad you are each learning something. You will need to understand diffraction if you travel by ship. You know we've had long conversation on mirrages and how to avoid being tricked by them in the past."
No comments:
Post a Comment