{"id":3057,"date":"2008-06-07T06:00:11","date_gmt":"2008-06-07T12:00:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wordpress-367309-1145705.cloudwaysapps.com\/2008\/06\/07\/play-it-again-gaia\/"},"modified":"2008-06-07T06:00:11","modified_gmt":"2008-06-07T12:00:11","slug":"play-it-again-gaia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sustainablog.org\/articles\/play-it-again-gaia\/","title":{"rendered":"Play It Again, Gaia"},"content":{"rendered":"
On my walk the other morning, I passed by a point in the woods where two pileated woodpeckers seemed to be in the throes of a frenzied debate. Listening to their contrapuntal cacophony, I could not help but think they had escaped from nature\u2019s version of a psychiatric ward. And this is true for the whole lot of them. Perhaps, many eons ago, the first pileated slammed its face into a tree one too many times. (And you have to wonder what the other animals must have thought when that first winged oddity of black and white and red showed up on the scene. As I rambled on, pondering over the evolutionary conundrum that is the pileated woodpecker, I became more aware of the entire environmental aria that I had been missing while lost in my own little mental world. Ah, the tyranny of thinking\u2026.<\/p>\n It was really just grand (the aria, that is). Every note on the scale was being hit by some living instrument at some moment. The measures were not quite in sync, for sure, and yet the melodies came together in a strangely enthralling harmony that carried me with it as I tripped along.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n And this was no one-morning-only performance. Oh no. I quickly realized that this symphony was in full swing every morning, every day\u2026every bloody moment!<\/p>\n If I actually listen, I can always here something going on and something to appreciate. Birds singing, frogs croaking, squirrels chattering their encoded schemes to pillage my bird feeders, bees buzzing, crickets chirruping, cicadas whirring, water murmuring, rain splattering, the breeze blowing\u2026. Nature has an infinite selection of tunes to play, and every one is a classic.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat on Earth is that<\/em> thing?\u201d one wooly mammoth asks another.<\/strong>
\n\u201cBeats me.\u201d<\/strong>
\n\u201cAnd why does he keep head butting that tree?\u201d<\/strong>
\n\u201cI dunno. Must be a loon.\u201d<\/strong>
\n\u201cYou got that right. That one sure won\u2019t last long.\u201d<\/strong>)<\/p>\n