Dwellers at the Threshold - Four

This morning I am continuing to write the story of how the human community came to live sustainably on the Earth by the year 3000. As I imagined what this might be like, I decided that we as a species discovered other ways of communicating with all the life around us, much as the shamans of many indigenous cultures. I also tried to put into historical perspective what animals might think about us, the two-leggeds.

The first chapter introduces the major characters in the book. So far, the reader has met Fran and Ridley from Alice Springs, Australia; Bidrha from the Gobi desert; Wangari from the African savannah; Yareen, a jaguar in the Sierra Madre, in Sonora, Mexico; the Elder, an old sycamore tree on the Lower Colorado river in the Sonoran desert, and now, Shira, an elephant on the African savannah.

This part of my book describes an actual event that occured in Erwin, Tennessee. I carry some baggage about it, as my Uncle was the man who was charged with carrying out the unbelieveable act described below. I only recently learned about it, and as a person who cares deeply about all forms of life, it made a deep impression on me. I decided to create a story where I can somehow resolve the generational guilt I feel about the hanging of a circus elephant named Mad Mary.

For those of you who are reading the sequel, I am bringing in the savannah in Africa, for which Wangari is a representative to the Federated Deserts Annual Meeting. Contiguous ecosystems are also present at these meetings since ecosystems blend into each other and each system's health is linked to the other's.

Chapter 1 Part Four

"She had a great memory, as all her line. A shutter rippled along her bulging, grey flank hanging in folds from her great age. In her blood line was one who suffered greatly, one whose grizzly death left an indelible scar on all her clan. Mad Mary's death by hanging in the verdant hills of Tennessee, a world away from her native savannah, was the lowest of the low in the two-legged - elephant relationship.

Driven mad from years in two-bit circus tents, poor diet, abuse, and utter loneliness, Shira's ancient relative died in agony as mountain men hoisted her scarred body on a railroad trestle and literally squeezed the last breath from her until she was released from hell on Earth.

That memory, and others like it from places where her clan members had been imprisoned, was passed to each new baby as a marker. She found these stories surreal and inconceivable in the present day cohabitation with humans. Both two-leggeds and Thunderers roamed the grasslands in peaceful cooperation. The yellow sea of grasses flourished with their presense. Her clan ate down the trees and shrubs that invaded the open savannah, and their waste nourished the soil. The Thunderers presence in the savannah helped to maintain its integrity. The two-leggeds came to learn.

Like all Earth's Children the act of remembering the Dark Ages was cultivated as part of one's duty to the Mother Earth and all life present - that never again should any of her creatures act with such disdain for any other life. Shira's clan mothers taught her about The Changes, when men and women among the two-leggeds began to understand the Great Law.

Shira rubbed against the massive flank of Sidah, her eldest son who was munching on the succulent leaves of an acacia tree. He wrapped his trunk gently around her head in a sweet embrace. Nearby Sidah's great love, the winsome Radha, nestled their new born underneath her smooth belly where the little one sucked hungrily from her full breast.

Shira looked out over the great clan happily grazing on the small trees and bushes along the edge of the African savannah. For as long as she remembered, the family was growing in numbers. The gentle two-leggeds of her day were welcome among them - they were called "Addah". They were the youngest among the earth's clans, God's most recent creation.

When the Addah came to the Thunderers, they humbly recognized the clan's great knowledge and historical memory, passed generation to generation. Just as the adults among the clan shaped their youngsters' character by teaching them the Life Protocol for all living beings on Earth, so now Addah came to learn from them. The clan of Thunderers moved slowly about the great savannah, stretching unencumbered for thousands of miles in every direction. Addah followed the Thundrerers on their daily saunters prompted wholly by whim, which the two-leggeds enjoyed immensely.

The great clan of Thunderers communicated by touch and passing of thoughts through the energy streams that surround all of Life in the universe. The Addah were learning to do this, too, but still created many varied sounds and sang and chattered like the three-leggeds that swung happily in trees along the tall forest's edge. Sidha has seen these furry, aerial acrobats when she was but a youngster. They delighted her as she stood and trumpeted their wild flings high above the forest floor. Imagine! God of Earth created such marvelous cousins. All of her life, Sidha experienced joy and wonderment, fulfilling the great Mother's wish for her living children, large and small.

Startled from her musings, Shira's grandbaby was nuzzling her old wrinkled tummy. She chuckled to herself and softly rumbled to the littlest clan member, caressing him with her soft pink nose. The baby smelled of new life - that sweet mother's-milk-aroma that made her at once a fierce protector and a gentle nurturerer. This was the Mother's gift of female-kind's duality, an image of the Mother 's own true nature.

A low rumbling passed like a wave among the males, alerting the clan's attention as an acrid odor of lion washed across the grassland. Tawny forms were visible only as undulations on a canvas of golden grass, occasionally broken by the penetrating dark of an eye. A reverberating roar spilled over the plain. The males trumpeted in return, acknowledging that all is well between these clans linked by the waving, golden sea.

The two-leggeds moved into the middle of the herd with the youngsters, walking in safety among their giant friends. Herds of the Hooved-Ones galloped in dark shadows in the tall grass. Like waves they adjusted their locations, ever alert to the muscled predators of their world.

In the year 3000 the savannah stretched across the horizon, its life forms richly woven into its interior. The Addah no longer dominated the community but were a small, integral part of it. Life flourished."