A time for mating

After the gales comes the sunshine. We walk our usual walk along the shoreline. Dee notices that the seabirds are mostly paired up now. Two pairs of oyster catchers (we'll keep a special watch out to try to avoid their eggs, which look just like stones camoflaged amongst streaked and spotted real ones on the seashore), several pairs of pinkfooted geese browsing the same short grass field as last year, a pair of exotoc looking ducks (mandarins?), etcetera, etcetera.

'Why', I asked, 'Do almost all creatures on earth mate once a year whereas humankind mates at all times of the year?' No answer other than, 'Why do you always ask such silly bloody questions?'

But I got to wondering how human life would be, were 'the urge' strike us for but a couple of weeks in the Spring.  How much more would we achieve with our lives were it not for this overwhelming 24/7/52 interest in sex, said by Freud to rank as high as second in our range of thoughts and actions (behind self-preservation and well ahead of all else.) I remember well that, when I and all other 18 year olds, being signed in for something called National Service back in 1952, we were given great mugs of tea to drink. Several of my fellow enlistees poured it away - surrepitiously of course. 'I'll not damn well drink that', one of them told me. 'Don't tha' know its laced with fxxxxxx bromide to keep the old pecker down?'

Perhaps it was indeed thought by the brass that we junior fighting men could then concentrate more on the fighting and less of that other f word? If so I can confirm that, in those days, there were not too many opportunities for practice ... I can also confirm that it didn't work.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.