There Is No First World And Third

Among The Myrtles The Mantids Moved, Lightly, Carefully, Swaying Slightly, The Quintessence Of Evil. They Were Lank And Green, With Chinless Faces And Monstrous Globular Eyes, Frosty Gold, With An Expression Of Intense, Predatory Madness In Them. The Crooked Arms, With Their Fringes Of Sharp Teeth, Would Be Raised In Mock Supplication To The Insect World, So Humble, So Fervent, Trembling Slightly When A Butterfly Flew Too Close.

Why Keep In Touch With Them? That's What I Want To Know,' Asked Larry Despairingly. 'what Satisfaction Does It Give You? They're All Either Fossilized Or Mental.' 'indeed, They're Not Mental,' Said Mother Indignantly. 'nonsense, Mother... Look At Aunt Bertha, Keeping Flocks Of Imaginary Cats... And There's Great-uncle Patrick, Who Wanders About Nude And Tells Complete Strangers How He Killed Whales With A Penknife...they're All Bats.

Each Day Had A Tranquility A Timelessness About It So That You Wished It Would Never End. But Then The Dark Skin Of The Night Would Peel Off And There Would Be A Fresh Day Waiting For Us Glossy And Colorful As A Child's Transfer And With The Same Tinge Of Unreality.

As I Watched The Pulsing Fire Among The Trees And Heard The Beat Of The Drum Merge And Tremble With The Voices, Forming An Intricate Pattern Of Sound, I Knew That Someday I Would Have To Return Or Be Haunted Forever By The Beauty And Mystery That Is Africa.

The Great Ecosystems Are Like Complex Tapestries - A Million Complicated Threads, Interwoven, Make Up The Whole Picture. Nature Can Cope With Small Rents In The Fabric; It Can Even, After A Time, Cope With Major Disasters Like Floods, Fires, And Earthquakes. What Nature Cannot Cope With Is The Steady Undermining Of Its Fabric By The Activities Of Man.