Maybe nature’s conscience had grown dull that day. Or maybe nature isn’t ever concerned with right and wrong. Maybe it just wants to optimize survival. Perhaps perceived mayhem is just reason in its prime. Even if that reason is void of any virtue.
Yet we intervene anyway. Control the chaos. Play God. Let our own sensibilities guide as much of the universe as we can manage to manipulate. So much of our compassion, or lack thereof, is responsible for so much of the cause-and-effect nature of the external world.
The war rages on. An age-old power struggle between man and his environment. Each trying to control the other. We can conserve or consume. Nature can preserve or ravage. On and on, the world spins in circles—encompassing an ongoing, cyclical battle of man vs. nature. Compassion and survival intertwine, dancing into co-existence. Logic and reason merging with merciful benevolence. Sympathy and empathy evolving tenfold.
But what good does all that empathy and sympathy do now?
You’ve found a nearly featherless fledgling on the ground. Its unopened eyes are a stark contrast to its gaping mouth—desperately anticipating food that isn’t coming. You’ve placed it back in its nest, assuming a sibling accidentally knocked it out. Was it windy last night, you’ve wondered? But, before dusk, you’ve found the same —assumedly injured or deformed— fledgling back where you first found it.
You’ve looked up, its mother’s looked at you. You still can’t relate, but want to understand. Tears have welled up in your eyes, and for what reason? Where’s the logic in that? Those tears wouldn’t have saved that ill-equipped fledgling anymore than it’ll save the others in that nest. Nature only spares us until it doesn’t.
Maybe nature’s conscience had grown dull that day. Or maybe, in a mercurial fit of benevolence, it was sparing the fledgling a worse fate yet. Maybe your intervention, albeit in good conscience, prolonged that poor bird’s suffering. Maybe Mother knew best when she first kicked it out of that nest (however unfavorable that may be to your unreasonably sensitive sensibilities).
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