It was a typical summer day in the fields. The sun was shining, the crickets were making a racket and countless species of bugs were busy feasting on the numerous different plants intended for a future harvest. Sweat trickeled in rivulets down my forehead, as concentration was less on the multitude of weeds being pulled then on thoughts about impending planting dates, the harvest, irrigation, etc., etc., etc. As much as this scene was typical, so was the inevitable braying of the mini donkey from up over yonder on the neighbor’s field. No matter what thought might be going through one’s mind, that little donkey always wants to add its two cents worth. But it is almost always the same…(as in a previous entry, this will be relayed in Charlie Brown-ese) “aAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!… AARGH, AARGh, AARgh, AArgh, Aargh, aargh… AAAARGH! AAARGH! AAARGH! AARGH! Hih. Aargh, Aargh, aargh, aargh.” Why, mini donkey, why must you constantly intrude on my thought?
As also described in that previous entry, that miniature creature’s bellow pervades the landscape like the cries of the Sandpeople in the movie Star Wars. Once again, the difference is that there is a definite sense of dismay in the donkey’s cries, very dissimilar to the war cry let out by those Tuskan Raiders. But alas, it does not change. Day after day after day that donkey lets out more than a few cries of what sounds to be of the ultimate distress.
There are quite a few other obnoxious vociferations on the farm throughout the day, but for the most part they pass by unheeded. For example, the crows constantly bicker back and forth, but through many years of experience, those sounds seldom assault my ears anymore for they are quickly blocked out. One of the few other birds that are still in the area, the catbird, will land on a branch fifteen feet away and screech out, “Hey!” repeatedly, until, at some point, that redundant commotion punctures through my concentration and is finally acknowledged. The buzzing of honey bees are also not noticed, until one of those overly inquisitive creatures at this time of year alights on me with some unknown intention. For the most part, these intrusions are temporary and quickly fade from consciousness as more important thoughts stream through my mind. But that donkey, that #$%@%^ donkey! In comparison to these other intrusions, the donkey is like some drunk that stumbles up to the microphone in an assembly hall and begins to scream with all his might. Well, it is something like that. Nonetheless, that annoying bray is something I have realized cannot be ignored.
So, in my typical fashion, I attempted to analyze this unhappy creature’s state in order to better understand the situation. To begin with, there are a couple of points to keep in perspective during this analysis. The first point is that the unhappy creature tends to release its dismay throughout any given day. What could cause such repeatedly verbalized cries of anguish? The second point is that the donkey cannot be viewed from the farm. Due to the dense verdure of the growing season, the fenced in area that encloses the donkey is obscured. I will start with these two points.
Normally, when a creature bellows out great dismay, there is something to instigate that effort. Without being able to see the creature during its cries of distress, it is impossible to determine what such culprit might be. Are the neighbors deliberately antagonizing the beast? That would seem highly unlikely. I am very familiar with such simple human activities as antagonization, and even the most evil spirited person would not irritate another at such short intervals, day after day after day. Plus, the neighbors are not the type to involve themselves in such activity. So what could it be? Surely the few horses in the paddock are not capable of abuse… are they? During the winter, when the leaves that obscure that area no longer block the view, they all seem to eat the grass beside each other amicably. And yet the donkey howls.
Babies will cry out when hungry. Is that it? If that were the case, as often as that braying occurs, that donkey would surely have designs on growing to be the size of a hippopotamus! And weather can have nothing to do with it either. Sunny or cloudy, hot or cold, those bellows still ring out over the valley. Perhaps it is merely clumsy, and, say, constantly stubs its… hoof. That can’t be it either, for a stubbed hoof would not reflect pain anywhere close to what a human toe would relate. No, there has to be something else going on here… But what?
And now… for something completely different. Yes, I stole that line from Monty Python. To lessen the degree of criminal activity, let’s say that I borrowed the line. They can surely have it back when I am finished with it…
Over the past year, I have, to a certain degree, come to understand the thought process known as stream of consciousness. It is bizarre to me, for my own thought processes are very much dialectical in nature, and thus logic dictates the flow of the random images in my mind, more or less. Anyway, stream of consciousness thinking is very natural to the, well, natural world. I will use those cute little furry creatures, known as rabbits, that love to eat bean plants as an example. As also mentioned in a previous entry, rabbits invaded Field 3 and proceeded to devour most of the bean plants in Row 4. Once those rabbits were discovered in those rows, I surely put the fear of something in them as they were chased out of the area. Now, if logic were part of a rabbit’s thinking process, they would put together the equation that if they are in the bean row in the middle of the day, the biped creature, that is, me, will eventually come by and threaten their very existence. But that is not how it works. If it was, they would quickly realize that the early morning hours would be perfect for them to destroy those delectable plants, and they would have plenty of time to escape the crime scene before that annoying farmer appeared. No, instead, as their stream of consciousness minds work, they meander from place to place, eventually led to that bean smorgasbord, precisely when said farmer… expects them to be there! Oops! Or rather…Yikes! How did those rabbits fall into the same routine? With the use of logic, it is not very difficult to determine.
Okay, now back to the donkey. Assuming that there is no assailant that routinely assaults the sad creature, what could it be that causes it to relapse to such a state of melancholy to wail so loudly? Bear with me here. (I probably should have placed this warning at the beginning of this entry.) Perhaps all of those seemingly forlorn cries are due to… mental trauma. Perhaps, just perhaps, that donkey simply suffers from a veritable recurring nightmare. Could it be that in its youth some unfortunate event befell it that to this very day causes it to scream in agony? Many of us humans have such memories that, luckily for us, are often hidden in the back of our minds as distant memories. But, perhaps for that donkey, there was such an unfortunate event, or events that completely traumatized the young donkey, only its mind does not work like a typical humans, but in reality has events and memories stream along seemingly randomly through its conscience.
So here would be a scene… (I must pause to insist that memory and forgetting are imperative to this perspective. The donkey must be able to remember and forget in any particular instant. Gotta love the contraction, eh?) So, here would be a scene… the mini donkey finds itself meandering through the pasture eating the tasty timothy and other grasses. Then, it spots a flowering red clover. Instantly, a memory is triggered that many years ago when the young mini-donkey wanted to eat one of those tempting red clover flowers, it was bullied aside by another more powerful beast, such as a larger mini-donkey or something along those lines. The young, and extremely emotional creature put forth a great wail of dismay over the unfairness of the situation. Admittedly, this is hypothetical at best, but to continue with the example, now, as that same, yet older, mini-donkey dines on the vegetation in the paddock, once a red clover flower is spotted, that awful traumatic experience of its youth is relived, as though that bully had returned to cause it more pain. And as a result, it brays, I mean, it BRAYS!!! Could it be this simple? And every time that it encounters one of those red clover flowers, the same reaction results… “aAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!… AARGH, AARGh, AARgh, AArgh, Aargh, aargh… AAAARGH! AAARGH! AAARGH! AARGH! Hih. Aargh, Aargh, aargh, aargh.” Another red clover is encountered… “aAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!… AARGH, AARGh, AARgh, AArgh, Aargh, aargh… AAAARGH! AAARGH! AAARGH! AARGH! Hih. Aargh, Aargh, aargh, aargh.” And another. Oh, if I only knew that red clover was the culprit, there would be no red clover for miles!
But alas, this is all mere rubbish. As my actions remain at a remote location from that relentlessly wailing beast, there is no way to determine exactly what it is that causes it to constantly bemoan its situation. With hands tied, as it were, instead, I must merely pay the price of some long past traumatic event again, and again, and again, and…