I went walking out. I went a bit too far out. Then I saw dawn and dusk. I saw the night skies, I went and travelled to mountains.
But I could not distinguish day from night.
And roses bloomed, and the sunflower with drooping head, told me a story of sun burnt brooks, and riverines of hope. I saw the brook babbling and the crows cawing. They were dark, blackened and sun burnt. I could not tolerate their insistent raucous cawing. They seemed to symbolize montony, if not despair...
Then I met the proverbial wily fox, who took me on an ascent - to hope, freedom. The fox spun a yarn about grapes being sour.
I lived in the animal kingdom for years. They seemed happier than us. That was when I read the book: 'Animal Farm'.
I lived in a farm of men who were like animals. I liked that because I like animals, their instincts and patterned behaviour.
This is a story I narrate to my children every day.
They are: five, seven and eight.
And, now they love animals...