In the thirty-four years we have been spending summers here,
I could probably count the number of times I have sighted a water snake on the
fingers of my two hands. I admit that some snakes are particularly nasty
looking. But to others there is a certain beauty in their shape, colours and
hue. And they serve a very useful ecological purpose: eating mice!
I was saddened, even sickened, recently to hear that this
neighbour had without regret killed a large snake that was sunning peacefully
on a rock by her cottage shore. What had that snake done to deserve summary
execution? Nothing. Her fear is irrational and even she knows this.
Why do so many of us human beings think we can so casually
commit such atrocities? We have no more right to life on this planet than these
creatures. Certainly, if one is threatened with harm in a real sense, one has a
right to take action to preserve one’s health and safety. But wanton
destruction of another creature’s life is despicable.
And it seems that this disrespect of nature is rampant. It
is human arrogance at its worst. Our sense of entitlement at times disgusts me.
A cottage should be a place where one observes and enjoys
nature to the fullest. Once I believe it was. However, sadly, it seems this is
no longer the case. It has become a place of excess consumerism. Instead of
quietly paddling a kayak or canoe around the water’s edge, one does circles on
jetskies or screams in a rubber sleigh in the large wake behind a too powerful
boat. Instead of quietly observing the rock formations, the trees on the
shoreline with their magnificent roots sculpted by nature, and the variety of
creatures that shelter there, people of all ages are racing around in loud and
oversized motor boats, oblivious to, or worse uncaring of, the wonders they are
disturbing and the harm the are doing.
These days cottagers rarely swim in the lake, have no
knowledge of handling a canoe or do not engage in physical activities that actually
take skill. Rarely are they found sitting on a dock observing what lies before
them. Do they ever see or notice the lovely painted turtles that sun on the
fallen and submerged tree trunk, the deer peacefully grazing in the marshy
areas, or the frogs peeking out from between the lily pads? Their large boats,
noisy and travelling at ridiculous speeds with their destructive wakes drive
these wonders away unseen, unobserved.
How sad that they miss the ducklings hiding in the reeds, or
the heron standing sentinel by the shore. How sad too that they do not take time
to notice and drink in the shadow shapes on the distant shore or the
ever-changing sky-scapes. Tragic is their ignorance of the morning mist and the
brilliant sky in the dark of night.
If only they would sit quietly and listen to the hooting
owl, the howling wolf or the plaintive call of the loon at night, maybe then
they would begin to understand that we do not own this planet earth. At best we are caretakers of it. We are only
a small part of a greater eco-sphere. We must learn to respect the whole.
