Tonight we have the most beautiful golden full moon rising steadily through the leafless trees; a male nyalla antelope is breathing his last breath. With leaves so sparse on the trees he has eaten of a poisonous vine – the last green leaf he could reach. His body, already thin, is barely visible above the ground; his massive horns appear unwieldy and only a hindrance now. Last week he was in love with a beautiful female. While the others were feasting on the Lucerne (alfalfa) bales, he only had eyes for her. His tracks from this morning are by our step.
The moon climbs higher preaching continuity – life goes on; wars happen, banks close, recession, succession, ; the baboons watch well into darkness. Moving like shadows away from our view but staying in range of the nyalla. They shy away from eye contact with us, even though we are watching from behind the glass window. They too are hungry, desperate.
Two giraffe stroll in to the waterhole, stretching to reach new leaves on the taller trees. They look like giants, white and shapely in the low light. All the animals seem restless, for ever walking back and forth – waiting for that first green flush of summer.
Do animals have souls? Is his emerging from his exhausted body like a magnificent butterfly from a chrysalis – soaring away from the pain of transition? or not...