i saw this nature documentary on tv today that was the loveliest thing. wolves and otters moving in a totally white field of snow...
i normally don't get into nature documentaries; i think this one appealed to me because there was hardly any visible landscape. the snow was like a canvas. there was a touching solitude and grace to it.
one sequence i thought was funny: this otter emerges from a hole with a fish in its mouth, and then a wolf attacks and snatches the fish. another time the otter has a fish, and a bald eagle attacks and steals it! that poor otter couldn't catch a break. it's like all the other snow animals were lazy asses and the poor belaguered otter was single-handedly keeping the ecology going.
in another scene, this female otter single handedly fends off three wolves that are simultaneously trying to eat her. i was on the verge of turning off the tv because i didn't want to watch her get mauled, but she had lightning quick reflexes and managed to bite the wolves on their noses while leaping away from their claws and jaws. it was a nice moment of triumph to see her make it back to her hole alive.
even when attacking, wolves are beautiful animals. otters, on the other hand, are comically cute. the way they move on snow is hilarious. they alternate between taking three steps and sliding along on their bellies, like little toboggans.
field of white
i am listening to this plaid song "tumami", and it makes me sad. my musical tastes have always run to the melancholy. warm synth washes and chiming bells evoke dreams of a past that never existed. imaginary nostalgia is like a narcotic for me; i could spend hours sitting here thinking about the past, the ways things could have been or the secrets that linger behind doors never opened. i don't believe in fate. it follows that each life is a "garden of forking paths". to put it rather glumly, this one is a slender branch that may or may not bear fruit.