Blog

After writing over five hundred Blogs and two Books, with four other Books in the works. I decided to use the experience and rewrite all my older Blogs. The following is one of my first hundred Blogs;

Human Danger

Human Danger: A Tale of Trust and Betrayal

On a gray autumn day, a heron with feathers of platinum gray chose me as a friend. In the wild, humans aren’t trusted; to us, they become pets. This heron allowed me to photograph it, almost close enough to touch. After I had scared it with my camera lens, it decided to perch on the hedge fifteen feet away. There, it stayed the entire time I wrote this blog, making eye contact with me like a chicken hawk or an intrigued eagle.

Not mad, not aggressive, only intent on letting me know that we’re all here on this planet together. Though he can’t trust me to perch on my shoulder without fear, he did allow me to come closer. I pushed my lenses into video mode and fed him bread, which he didn’t need. He walked away from me, only to return, this time within ten feet, where he stayed until I left. Is this love that I am feeling? After a while, he ate the bread because he was comfortable that I would not do anything to hurt him. You hear stories about people making pets out of wild animals, such as tigers, and you wonder how they could trust them. Well, my friend, the shoe is on their foot trusting us.

We are the only species that kill for fun and for no other reason than uncontrolled rage and hate. So why should they ever trust us? Look at the fine cats we wear on our backs, the fine ivory that sits on our shelves. We are forever swimming against the tide of natural balance. That’s why when a different species befriends me, I shudder with chills, knowing that they use their exceptional senses to feel me out and know that they are safe around me, not judging me to be like all the others. I have a long history of being befriended by all of God’s creatures, like the time sitting on the river banks and being surrounded by hundreds of cardinals who have been known to be aggressive, yet not one attacked.

Another time, while traveling in northern Pennsylvania, driving a company truck to deliver building supplies to a job site in Erie, a Canadian gross hawk dive-bombing its prey from high up in the sky misjudged the moving truck, slammed into its side, bounced off, and landed in the woods. I immediately pulled over and ran to its rescue. My coworker, out of curiosity, ran over to the injured bird. When we caught up to it, we were both sharing a sight of wonderment. The hawk had a six-foot wingspan and talons bigger than my big hands. My coworker quickly backed off from helping the wounded bird, saying, “This thing will kill us both for fun.” As I said before, only humans kill for fun.

I ran to the truck for water and ice. I have always known how to administer first aid since I was nine years old. I stuck my hand out to inspire goodwill, and he waived his huge talon at my hand. I realized that if I was going to help, I first had to get him to trust me. I gave him water and food, knowing he would enjoy raw chicken. A bond was now formed; we were now friends. Administering first aid was easy. I made a bed in the back of the truck and placed this huge bird of prey there, not worrying that it could cut my throat with one swipe of its talons. I took this majestic and fearsome bird to the job site, opened the truck’s gate, and everyone ran. I felt like my name was Tarzan when I extended my hand, and this bird, who had never before come in contact with a human, came to me. He knew that I could be trusted. When it came time to set this majestic creature free, my coworker wanted to keep it as a pet. I told him, “That’s the way humans are. That is why they don’t trust us. If they can’t domesticate it, they kill it.” The hawk was set free after I reminded my coworker that having possession of an endangered species carried a five thousand dollar fine and five years in prison.