Zoos

by jad

I wonder today what it feels like to be a migrating animal in a zoo. With the turning of the seasons, do they feel a longing they don’t understand? Some unknown pull, deep inside, left unheeded? Unheedable. A sense that something is supposed to happen. But it doesn’t. It can’t.

In some ways this must be one of the loneliest feelings in the world. The rooted sense that it is time for something, some change that rests known but unknown, felt but without a concrete thought to reason.

Do they, these animals in zoos together, share in empathy over this mysterious condition? Like a colony similarly afflicted.

Of course in other ways we are all in our cages, it’s hardly like we can just go anywhere. It’s all zoos.