Monday, April 24, 2017


Majestic Bald Eagle Tearing a Newborn Goat to Shreds While Mommy Watches

Last year at this time on the calendar, our property was under water. It was a rainy spring. It's happened before. A dozen years ago it rained every single day for twenty-eight days during the Easter season. Knee high rain boots were all the fashion rage around here.

This year we are dry as a dust bowl. There's a burn ban. There's a wildfire alert. There's a lot of crunchy grass.

But isn't that Mother Nature for you? The answer is yes.

Too much. Not enough.

For a dame that gets a lot of adoration and awe, Mother Nature is a real biddy. For those not of the Southern persuasion a biddy, or old biddy is an ugly, frightening old woman: beldam, crone, hag, witch.

When I hear people worshipping at the feet of their Earth day protest signs about how lovely Mother Nature is I have to laugh, thinking, "Have they ever met the old witch."

For example yesterday, I was shocked to see a huge, mature bald eagle standing in my next door neighbor's pasture. Mother Nature dictates that eagles don't walk about unless they're sick or eating something. This one was eating something. It was eating a newborn baby goat.

The kid's mother was bawling her guts out as the eagle tore her baby to bloody bits. I sighed. The mother goat continued to cry as she trotted over to her little herd. Frantically, she stirred up the other goats, until they galvanized themselves into a juggernaut of retribution, turned as one body, and charged the bloody-beaked raptor. They drove him off. 

And then the goats promptly lost focus, forgot what they were about, and wandered off to try to find something to eat that wasn't deep fried by the sun. The mommy goat continued to bawl her lungs out as the eagle returned to his feast.

And that is the real Mother Nature, the old biddy that requires the "graphic content" warning on the Discovery Channel. 

Sitting under our ancient oak tree that is showing signs of death and dying (also Mother Nature at work) something natural stung the back of my arm. Theories abound - wasp, scorpion, flesh-eating butterfly, T-Rex.

Whatever it was left a welt the size of a softball, felt like liquid lava, and hurt so bad I couldn't sleep . . . until I took unnatural drugs created in a lab.

And that's the real Mother Nature, not the sissy worshiped by humans who've never met her in person. 

Linda (Nature Skeptic) Zern 

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