The eyes of the animals I hunt and fish for are endlessly fascinating to me. I look and I look, but I cannot fathom the depths contained within them. When I try, all I see is myself. They are an immutable weirding glass, bending the world into a wavelength only they understand, offering me no clue what resides behind that implacable stare.
And I can't help but wonder: how do those eyes see me? How, exactly, do they translate my reality into theirs? I will never know. No matter how long I look, how hard I stare, those eyes will keep their secrets, reflecting nothing but what I choose to see in them.
I guess that's why I keep looking...
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ReplyDeleteThat's the thing. To keep looking. And asking.
ReplyDeleteThis weekend's Roebuck saw me and Bambi Basher as an innocent by-standers during its life-or-death chase (which it won) with a slavering predator.
ReplyDeleteSBW
This picture is freaking me out Chad! No more up close photos of fish or I'll never bring Cherry Almond Mousse Pie over again!
ReplyDeleteThis is almost precisely what one of my final essays in my Philosophy capstone class was about. We spend most of that semester reading a book by Thomas Nagel called "The View From Nowhere" (the cover art reminded me of NW Oklahoma btw). The essay was about the inability for we as humans to conceive what it is like to be a bat. I think I have it somewhere among my academic artifacts from a different age.
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