It’s easy to forget in the midst of the hubbub that the planet we live on isn’t simply the place where humans get to roam around in a real-life version of "The Sims" video game. Our actions have an effect much greater than we realize. We drive our vehicles on roads built where there once was nothing but wild forests and habitats. We surf, swim and drive our boats in the vast ocean that we know less about than the surface of our neighbor, planet Mars. We fly our planes through the realm of the sky once only known to the birds. To many, the Earth is ours alone to do with what we please, and little mind is paid to the creatures whose homes are destroyed as we feel the need to constantly advance our society with another drive-thru Starbucks.
It's so easy to be angry at the deer who dented your car when it ran frantically across the road (like my mother was when this happened to her a few weeks back), and it’s easy to hate the shark who bit your child while he was swimming in the ocean, as I’m sure the parents of the recent North Carolina shark bite victims do. But is it really the animal’s fault? Can they be blamed for going about their usual animal behaviors in a world humans have dominated? Sharks are carnivores, we know they bite and kill. So, why do we not realize that every time we step into the ocean we’re entering the shark’s home and are, therefore, in danger of falling victim to this natural shark behavior?
It occurred to me very recently while kayaking through the Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge in De Leon Springs, Florida that nearly everything I do in some way encroaches on the home of one of Earth’s other creatures. This was a particularly interesting revelation for me as it’s not often we consider our individual effect on the planet, but more often we consider what humankind has done as a whole to planet Earth. As my friends and I kayaked along on our serene excursion through another animal’s home, and I pondered the validity of this action, we came around a bend we wished we hadn’t.
In a moment I’ve since been referring to as “the scariest, but coolest thing that’s ever happened to me,” a huge alligator asserted her dominance and dominion over this part of the lake in the form of a deep and threatening growl. If you don’t know what it’s like to experience an alligator growl, and I didn’t until this moment, simply imagine the sound the T-Rex makes in "Jurassic Park" scaled down to appropriately fit the size of an American Alligator, and envision the reptile raising its head toward the sky like a wolf howling at the moon. When an alligator growls, all of the drops of water on its body fly off into every direction in response to the harsh vibrations. It’s all quite terrifying to be near.
After spinning our kayaks around, paddling for our lives and making it a great distance, one of my friends suggested that the alligator must’ve been a mother protecting her babies to react in such a way. The alligator wasn’t simply out to get us; we had wandered into a mother’s home, and she defended her babies like any mother would. This slight change of perspective drained all of the fear from my body and replaced it with the realization that I had just invaded someone else’s home, and I honestly felt bad about it.
I’m not trying to preach a wild assertion that humankind should give up activities like surfing or kayaking that place us in the homes of large animal predators; that is unrealistic and would be unfair to us, as we are meant to be sharing the planet with our animal neighbors. However, it’s important that we remember this at all times — the planet isn’t ours alone. The road we drive on to get to our supermarket was once the home of many animals, as was the site of your neighborhood Walmart. Humans destroyed those without so much as a second thought. The least we can do now is give the animals respect in what homes they have left. So, at your next encounter with a wild animal, whether it be pleasant or not, keep in mind that the animal's behavior and actions are wild and free, and we are not at liberty to tame that. You are in its home just as much as you are in yours.
