Not everyone’s definition of “busy” will be the same. And when I tell you what has occupied a fairly large slice of my time, there will proably be more than a few scoffing, derisive splutters.
I’ve been drawing zebras.
Now, this may seem a no-brainer to those of you who have polo ponies in the back field. But for someone whose most recent acquaintance with a nag was 2 years ago, zebras present something of a challenge. Add to that the fact that the only real zebra I’ve ever seen was behind bars, poor thing.
So I had to resort to paging through some old magazines and books for pictures of a “horse in striped pyjamas.” I learned a few things about zebras. I already knew that getting too close to a wild one, however cute or funny it might look, is asking for trouble. But I didn’t know until recently that the wildlife migrations in southern Africa can’t start til the zebras do! Why? It seems Ol’ Stripey’s gut has evolved to digest the tough old grasses which inhibit the new growth which comes when the rains begin. So…once the zebra herds have chewed down the stalky stuff, the next wave of grazers can move in.
Something else I learned – zebras can “read” the individual stripes of their fellows. I had assumed (ignorant white woman, me) that they recognised each other by scent. Nope! They also use the black/white pattern differences in sorting out who’s who. Like fingerprints, the white* stripes are unique to each zebra.
*Yes, the animals’ skin is black with white stripes.
Time to take Hoover for a walk…