pheasant breast

I realize it's Thanksgiving and I should probably write a blog post about all the things I'm thankful for, that said, my brain lent itself to an alternative tack.

I went pheasant hunting this morning. Five birds were had. What followed, for me was both disturbing, interesting and enlightening. Just another link in the chain of life as I see it. Connected, metaphorical and a reflection.

image from here

The birds were warm and nestled on the tailgate of my others truck and the veteran woman in our group offered to clean them. I watched as she flipped them on their backs and dug for the center of their feathers and skin and ripped them open to undress the breasts.

It was such a violent procedure that she undertook with such precision, but it just made me think of a man ripping open a woman's shirt to get at 'the goods.' Which then brought me around to assault of women and the taking by force of something wholly dead or innocent.

Onward to the plight of animal instinct in man-kind dressed in the modern lighting. And how the majority have managed to civilize instinct over time. Has instinct changed within our DNA? Or is it the same within the different frame? The need to provide is obviously much different than it once was and what about women's instincts? Are we becoming less motherly as we evolve? Or are we 'mothering' in new or ways that replace it with the workplace and alternative lifestyles? And still acts of violence are all around us. Are some genes perpetuating 'old' instincts?

It doesn't really matter. It is what it is and will continue to change and move. But how miraculous is the adaptability of human nature? At one time we were able to adapt and survive without electricity, running water, cars, etc. and now we adapt to the shit that comes with all this change. Is it better? Are we better? Does it matter that we've 'civilized' in the grand scheme? We wouldn't know any different if we hadn't, it would just be what it's always been. Weird.

Sometimes it looks like the world is The Beast and civilization is The Beauty. Slowly taming the adrenaline, testosterone and aggression man was born with.

All that to say, how the hell did the cleaning of a dead bird bring all this up? I guess the mind is a mysterious playground...

Happy Thanksgiving.