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WHY LOOK AT ANIMALS?

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The Music of Time
This chapter is in the book The Music of Time
Music of Time US.indd 20604/10/2019 18:17WHY LOOK AT ANIMALS?What we habitually see confirms us. John Berger WHEN WE DRIVE HOME from the west of an evening, my eyes fixed on the twilit road, my sons in the back of the car, quietened by fatigue or boredom, we have to pass through a strip of dense woodland, just a couple of miles before we emerge into the open farmland where we live. Even as a grown-up, I can see that this is one of those magical woods: the trees arching over the road on either side to form a long, half-lit tunnel that could bring us out anywhere, glints and winks of silver in the darkening under-growth and, not a rare event at this time of day though always a small miracle when it happens, a hint of other lives, swimming or leaping through the greenery, sometimes to shy away at the last second and sometimes to stream across the road, two or three or five of them together, panicky, but not too quick to make out – and always, no matter how suddenly it happens, we are all aware of the eyes, of the fleeting, gorgeous exchange of a look, while we shift from the humdrum routine of a homeward journey into vivid life again, just for a moment, and the boys call out, or whisper, wonderingly: Deer! It seems such a small event, yet this animal encounter is an occa-sion of quiet if short-lived pleasure every time it happens because, like the grown-up I am now, as opposed to the half-wild boy I was 206
© 2020 Princeton University Press, Princeton

Music of Time US.indd 20604/10/2019 18:17WHY LOOK AT ANIMALS?What we habitually see confirms us. John Berger WHEN WE DRIVE HOME from the west of an evening, my eyes fixed on the twilit road, my sons in the back of the car, quietened by fatigue or boredom, we have to pass through a strip of dense woodland, just a couple of miles before we emerge into the open farmland where we live. Even as a grown-up, I can see that this is one of those magical woods: the trees arching over the road on either side to form a long, half-lit tunnel that could bring us out anywhere, glints and winks of silver in the darkening under-growth and, not a rare event at this time of day though always a small miracle when it happens, a hint of other lives, swimming or leaping through the greenery, sometimes to shy away at the last second and sometimes to stream across the road, two or three or five of them together, panicky, but not too quick to make out – and always, no matter how suddenly it happens, we are all aware of the eyes, of the fleeting, gorgeous exchange of a look, while we shift from the humdrum routine of a homeward journey into vivid life again, just for a moment, and the boys call out, or whisper, wonderingly: Deer! It seems such a small event, yet this animal encounter is an occa-sion of quiet if short-lived pleasure every time it happens because, like the grown-up I am now, as opposed to the half-wild boy I was 206
© 2020 Princeton University Press, Princeton
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