Not a subject on which my wife would consider me an authority. Yesterday I did a quick spot on the Today programme on that subject, with respect to Alastair Cook, the England cricket captain and his astonishing 14-hour innings against Pakistan. They embarrassingly called me Simon Barnes of The Times, but I rose above it.
Cook was praised for his patience, but it’s not patience of the kind you need when you’re trying to make your computer behave, or dealing with a 14-hour flight delay. It’s more like the patience you need when looking at wildlife.
There’s a passage in Anthony Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time (yes, that again, any why not? It’s in the fifth volume of the 12, the one called Casanova’s Chinese Restaurant) in which the characters are discussing Casanova. One asks why Casanova should be considered a great man because he had a lot of women; most men would be bored to death.
That’s why he was great, says Moreland. Because he didn’t get bored. And that’s why Cook is great. He didn’t get bored while batting because he was completely absorbed by the process. He wasn’t fighting tedium: the idea of tedium never entered his mind.
It’s the same thing with the wild world. I may get frantic with the smallest malfunction of my computer, and may start frothing at the mouth when the “flight delayed” signs goes up. But I can sit without even thinking about time when I’m out in the wild.
I don’t present that as virtue. I’m absorbed by the process. I’m consumed. The jobs of looking out and listening out enthral me. It’s hard to stop: like a surfer waiting for one last good wave, I find myself sitting on and on, waiting for one last good moment of wildness.
I don’t go out in search of meditative calm or peace or tranquillity. I don’t go out because I’m a patient man. I go out because the wild world enthrals me and consistently rewards those who sit for that little bit longer.
George Schaller, the great ethologist – student of animal behaviour – did ground-breaking work with lions. (The Serengeti Lion: A Study of Predator-Prey Relations is very readable, and quite enthralling to all of us with a taste for lions. I used it fictionally; something very similar was the master-work of a character in my first novel, Rogue Lion Safaris.) Schaller would spend day after day with lions: and lions like sleep: a 16-hour snooze is nothing to a lion.
Schaller often found his head nodding from empathy. But he stayed with the lions because the subject utterly absorbed him. All of us who operate at a much lower and less directed level can empathise with the empathising Schaller. And sit on. And on.
In such circumstances patience ceases to be a virtue and becomes something not far off a vice. But unlike a real vice, it brings sustained joy and never palls.
* Many thanks to every one who welcomed me back after I posted yesterday’s blog. I feel really cheered and am full of good resolutions. I’ll reply to all when I can.
Good that you are back in action, Simon. Two enjoyable pieces to get us going again.
Cheers Bob, are we shouting for Argentina now?
Hi Simon
I like a bunch of other people, I’m sure, have been patiently waiting for you to return. So pleased to see you in my inbox again. Our man who knows about all things wild has appeared. As you say, wait in the wild world and something happens to put a smile on our faces.
Welcome back.
Thanks very much Bernard, and apologies for the intermission.
What a fine post. Of course no wife believes her husband is a patient man. Of course not all of us are good at even sitting and watching in a hide, but at least one understands the need for patience in such circumstances. Do carry on.
Graham
You should have seen my wife’s response when someone told her I was serene…
Like others, pleased you are back with two good pieces.agree about that absorbing watching situation, started for me as a child with ants,any kind of watching, an animal or insect or bird requires patience, and yes it can be very selfish and not a virtue at all. But wonderfully satisfying.
I’ve just been re-reading My Family And Other Animals, because I had to do a talk at the Jersey Festival of the Word. Gerry in the garden of the strawberry pink villa shares the mood with you.
Another fan of the “Wild Man” is also pleased to see you back. I confess that I’ve thought about you now and again and wondered (even worried) why you’d disappeared from view. A big sigh of relief that you will be enlivening our mail boxes once more and giving us plenty of food for thought. Looking forward, too, to more of Eddie’s photos, I love his uncomplicated approach to nature and it’s a privilege to share some of his journey of discovery.
Cheers!
Sorry I have been away Christine – been chasing some rather nice projects, but great to be back blogging again. Eddie will get back down to it soon i’m sure.
Hello Simon,
Like Bernard I have been watching out for your appearance and was delighted to see your post. Having just returned from a month in the National Parks of the Southwest USA I hope you are having a great time. I am still as interested in wildlife as ever but the sports reports in my daily newspaper hold little attraction these days….
I’ll catch your Today item on iPlayer – thank you for mentioning it.
Thanks for this Debby, i’ll tell you about my trip to Badlands National Park in the next few days.
Oh, there you are again, that’s better.
Will also track down Today.
And there you are too, so all’s well.
I love your writing Simon – always have. I cancelled my digital subscription to the Times when they sacked you. I love wildlife and am reading your book on how to be a bad bird watcher. Wonderful. Keep fighting the good fight.
Good on ya Margie, many thanks for your message. I’ll do as you say.
So glad to hear from you again. My patience has been rewarded!
My last burst of patience with an otter, I’ll try and do him justice later this week.
Thanks for the resumption. It was a bad day when I no longer found you in The Times and had to ferret around to discover why. Poor show. Then came the recent blog silence and I suspected I’d been axed for non-response. Glad to know you’re not bitter. Keep it going. And may Eddie keep bringing joy.
Ah yes, I remember The Times. Very glad you’re still with me, Eddie and I are both in fine form.
Great to read your thoughts on the world (both wild and otherwise), somehow makes me feel that normal service has been resumed after an annoying delay.
A thousand apologies for the delay, I seem to have a lot of thrilling projects on but it’s good to get back to the blog.
So delighted to read your poetic words again and glad to know you are well.
I’m getting my rhythm back, glad you’re reading.
Boycott’s 246 and Mike Atherton’s 180 in South Africa. Sublime concentration. I was not aware that you had written novels?!
I love the extended time period over which Test cricket is played. Every match is a novel, not a short story. You should be able to get my three novels at the AbeBooks website should you be mad enough! They are Rouge Lion Safaris, Hong Kong Belongers and Miss Chance.
Simon I came across your book How to be a Bad Bird Watcher after my son gave me your tome Ten Million Aliens for Christmas, because of my bad bird watching. You are a brilliant writer and I have been singing your praises ever since. How could I be interested in such a book, but the way you write makes it fascinating, it is taking me a while to read!!
Thank you for this piece, sent to me by the same son, on Patience, which I will share with my Yoga teacher, whom I introduced to Bird Watching and she is now far better than me. This piece will form an interesting discussion topic in our next Yoga lesson, at which we always start with a little bit of homespun philosophy. Thanks
Delighted that this piece will be discussed in your yoga class. There is a similar thing between meditation and prolonged waits for wildlife in that the whole thing becomes mindless in the most meaningful possible way. It’s about connections rather than disconnections.
A pleasure to be reading your pieces again. A combination of this blog and The Blue Moment by Richard Williams supplies a properly balanced diet which makes newsprint an unrequired extravagance. I was delighted to find a signed copy of The Meaning Of Sport as a gift the other day. That is a volume that could usefully be read by some of athletics’ administrators just now.
Richard is a top man and one of many passions. I’m glad you like the Meaning of Sport. I wish sports administrators would remember that sport was not originally designed as a form of business.