guts&gory

One might not slow down for a Lilac-breasted Roller in the Kruger Park any more, but a Martial Eagle gets a full stop. Let’s face it, there is something arresting about raptors, beyond their talons and mastery of flight.

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I suspect it has to do with what we project of ourselves onto them. Thanks to a skull feature we share, the supraorbital ridge, we read human emotion into their faces. Eagles tend to get characterised as stern-looking people, like headmasters or Beethoven. And then there’s the way they perch, proudly upright, that smacks of good breeding and private schools.

But, of course, they aren’t noble and don’t possess any of the human qualities we assign to them. They are apex predators and ruthless killers. One look at a raptor’s mealtime confirms this – it resembles a crime scene: bloodied victims at their feet, a mad glint in the eyes and ripped-out feathers fluttering all over the show, like banknotes at a cash-in-transit heist. How does one reconcile the bird we imagine with the bird that is?