A former classmate called Patrick Njiru opened my eyes in a fascinating direction when he confided about something that used to puzzle him when he was younger. He told me that each time he saw a person walking, he used to wonder what prevented that person from toppling over and sprawling onto the ground; especially when one leg was lifted. You see, he could understand it when a cow or a dog walked since at any one time it had at least two alternate legs firmly planted on the ground, but not for a human being. I don’t quite remember what my reaction was to that revelation, but I know that I have always remembered Njiru’s arguments and was impressed that a person might be so curious as to wonder about the obvious.
I remembered Njiru when I looked outside and saw a woodpecker attacking a tree with its beak. And as I looked, I imagined how much the tree might wish it could shrug off the annoying bird that was slowly drilling a hole in its body. That reminded me of a TV story of survival when a mountaineer was trapped under a boulder overnight, and had to endure the pain as a family of crabs slowly and meticulously buffeted on his foot. From his immobilized position, he could only watch as one crab after another dipped its claws inside his open wounds and scissored out more flesh in a feeding frenzy that lasted for hours until the rescue team arrived.
A tree can appreciate just how much it means for a creature to be able to have the volition to move, no matter how slightly. A person who is bedridden can tell you about the value of the ability for anyone to walk around. Someone who is locked up can talk about the value of being able to travel from one place to another. You and I, what can we appreciate about our abilities today?