OU blog

Personal Blogs

Jim McCrory

Eyes of Gratitude

Visible to anyone in the world
Edited by Jim McCrory, Saturday, 1 Mar 2025, 08:28

On the windswept expanse of Scalpsie on the Isle of Bute, I found myself amid a landscape that spoke both sea’s angry roar and the lush landscape’s whispers. The beach lay stretched out, a silver ribbon between the lush embrace of farmlands—a setting stark in its beauty yet quietly dramatic in its ordinary cycles.


Image kindly provided by Sam Carter at https://unsplash.com/@samdc



As I walked, a small, distant drama unfolded at the boundary where nature's bounty meets its indifference. There, a sheep, heavily pregnant and vulnerable, lay on her back in a trough, her plight stark against the pastoral calm. A crow, stark in its opportunistic role in this tableau, was pecking mercilessly at her, targeting her eyes—a scene of life teetering at the edge of suffering and survival.

Compelled by a visceral pull to intervene, I approached the scene, disentangling the sheep from her vulnerable state. With a firm grip and a gentle heave, I righted her onto her feet. She scampered, not far, then turned to face me.

Her look was piercing, one eye bloodshot, a visible testament to her ordeal. The other sheep, her companions in this bucolic life, began to congregate around her, as if drawn by an invisible thread of communal bond.

She stood there, staring at me. I wondered about the thoughts that might be flickering behind that weary gaze. Was this a moment of silent gratitude? Or merely a stunned pause in the wake of trauma, her mind still wrapped around the night's cold fear and vulnerability? Perhaps she laid there all night, the stars wheeling indifferently above her, her body a battlefield between life and the pecking death at her eyes.

I would like to think she was saying “thanks” in her silent, animal way. In her stare, there seemed to be an acknowledgment, a momentary connection bridged between human and animal—a shared encounter with suffering and relief. It's moments like these that remind us of the thin veneer that separates existence from extinction, comfort from agony, and gratitude from the simple shock of being alive.

 


Permalink 2 comments (latest comment by Jim McCrory, Sunday, 2 Mar 2025, 16:58)
Share post

This blog might contain posts that are only visible to logged-in users, or where only logged-in users can comment. If you have an account on the system, please log in for full access.

Total visits to this blog: 377362