grazed hillside

I'm in New Zealand. It is early evening, but the southern summer is more or less upon us and the days are long. The sun has not yet set, and its low-angled rays are alighting on a steep hillside, across the valley from where I am standing. And this oblique light is highlighting the form of the hillside: its curves, its contours. And in certain places the light is showing the slope to be covered in tiny terraces – not the sizeable terraces that are sometimes made by people to grow crops. These tiny terraces are animal tracks. And to one side I can see some cows grazing on the hillside.

It's a beautiful scene. And seeing the way the animals have altered the hill, it makes me realise just how entwined the natural world is. For sure these tracks, these little terraces, have predominantly been made by domesticated animals, but wild animals also create tracks, alter the landscape in their own ways.

And I love this interplay between the landscape and the animals. The hillside supports the grass, as it grows. The grass feeds the animals. And the animals alter, in some way, the hillside.

Now I'm pausing to watch a bird of prey. It looks like it's out hunting in this beautiful light, looking for dinner.

Yes, this natural world is all interlinked, everything affecting everything else. Our human mind always wants to divide things up, and create something rather linear: a supports b, b support c. Or a causes b and b causes c. But in reality, everything is much more complicated than that. Dependencies is a circular more often than not. There is a symbiosis between these elements of existence: the form of the land, the plants, the animals. And whilst our rational approach to life has its uses, it's also well worth us setting that aside once in a while, and seeing the great interdependence between all that is, including ourselves. For we too are part of this great, mysterious, entwined whole.