Non-human species help us understand that existence is its own justification. Which is not to say that teaching us this is necessarily their purpose. Their to-do is just to be. Koalas are a great example. As you probably know, they’re marsupials. Instead of inventing MRI machines, composing operas, or running for office, they snooze 20 hours a day and spend the rest of their time munching on eucalyptus leaves.
Someone told me once that they were high all the time from the oil, hence their apparent lethargy. But put away the Dead/Phish. Barbara, one of the volunteers we met Saturday at the San Diego Zoo, said eucalyptus, besides being dangerous for people to ingest, is so low in nutrients that nature slowed koalas’ digestion and metabolism, enabling them to get the most from every bite but ruling out 5Ks.
Barbara showed granddaughter Frannie how small the babies are. Their first test in this cruel world is crawling by themselves into the mother’s pouch. Another volunteer, Debbie, told us that 130 koalas have been born in San Diego since they first came to the zoo a century ago. In the late seventies, as a reporter in San Diego, I visited the zoo’s then-new koala habitat and was permitting to photograph one from a foot or two away.
These days, males and females are kept separate in enclosures visitors can see from treetop-level walkways. One often assumes livelier species would be happier in the wild. The San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance compensates for all that captivity by its wonderful work all over the world, including looking after koalas’ native habitats in Australia. The zoo’s mission is no less than helping create a world where all life can thrive — which is sometimes just to be, and sometimes to sing. We visited in large part to see Frannie’s guitar wizard dad PJ Bovee performing for delighted zoo-goers at one of the refreshment venues.
