On my way to the Lincoln Children's Zoo, it seemed as though everybody was in a hurry. I've noticed 
this time and time again. It seems as though everyone is running a race to get to their destination faster than everyone else. As I look into other cars, I see the familiar scene of people talking away on their cell phones, or sending emails on their blackberries. All of these people seem to be completely oblivious to all of their surroundings. People drive by at supersonic speeds in the biggest cars they could possibly find. At these times, it seems as though people are more prepared for a demolition derby than a simple commute to wherever they are trying to go. As these people get more and more obsessed with getting where they want to be, people begin honking their horns. As this is going on I can't imagine how any place, especially a zoo, can provide any peace from this hectic society. The Lincoln Children’s Zoo in fact though, was a nice and refreshing change from the bigger, louder, more expensive and more technologic things society seems to prefer today.
I pulled up to a dainty white building splattered with spots of pink. Huge trees created a comfortable shadow from the midday sun. Little paw prints of different animals stamped in orange and green l
ead me from the parking lot to the front entrance. Pots of flowers and rows of plants greeted me as I walked in showing off so many colors it was almost overwhelming. I started to get the feeling I was walking into a preschool instead of a zoo. Before I can make it to the gate a big yellow arrow stops me saying, “Watch Your Step.” I follow the arrow down its pole and come across clunky, charcoal colored, yet rusted train tracks. This must take guests around on an outskirts tour of the zoo. Treating it like it was a street I look to my left to make sure its safe to cross. The tracks seem to get swallowed by all of the trees and all to soon they veer off so I couldn’t see where they went. Looking over to my right is the train, sitting there waiting for more guests to arrive so it can do its job. The small red and white-stripped painted train almost blinds me from its reflection off the sun. The six red benches look as if they were brand new, so clean and shiny it was almost like they were begging you to sit on them.
I entered the zoo after paying the $6.42 admission fee. There are so many trees shading the entrance trail your eyes have to adjust to the dark shade they provide. Small leaves and plants still cover the ground, causing you crunch right through them on your way in. A small white sign, dulled from the sun, wind and rain stops me and Welcomes me to the Lincoln Children’s Zoo and says to the left is, “This way for fun.” The neat and organized trail bends off to the left then curves around to an opening where I can see the sun shining through the trees.
After passing through the clearing, the whiff of animals that the wind brings up to my nose reminds me that I truly am in a zoo. In front of me stands a bridge, almost looking like a little playground for kids. I walk into the area switching from pavement to woodchip, dirt and hay concocted ground. Standing under the light brown bridge with the sun shining through the spaces between the boards, I look around to see where that distinct smell is coming from. Llamas are off sleeping in the corner, their brown fur so thick is almost looks like dread locks. I decide then and there I wasn’t going over to their pen from hearing before they have a nag for sp
itting. All of a sudden a shadow is cast over me from on top of the bridge. I look up immediately to see a little goat passing right over walking to the other side of the petting zoo. He struts along making not much noise at all on the wood, eventually coming over to the fence by me to see if I am nice enough to feed him. His awkward stage made me laugh, as his ears were too big for his little frame yet his horns were barely peaking out of his head. It was almost like his ears didn’t get the memo that they have to wait for the rest of his body to grow too.
This deserted looking exhibit all of a sudden catches my eye off to the right so I walk up to
the cage. The sign on the fence reads Reindeer. I scan my sights along the edge of the red and brown rusted fence and up the back looking for this so called reindeer. In Christmas stories and on TV you always see these reindeer and in my mind they are big animals that would need a lot of space; this pen suggested differently. There were two in the far back corner eating random, dry leaves while lying in the sun. One looks up from his meal and stares right in our direction. Slowly he makes his way over to our side of the fence. He comes closer into view and I can see his brown and white hair mixes together in certain places so it almost appears gray. His frosted white hooves make the click clack sound on the pavement as he approaches the fence. I reach over and touch the soft brown velvet that covers his antlers. The edge of his antler towards his ear is starting to tear as he is shedding the velvet. He is standing so close that some of his fur is sticking through the holes in the fence. Then, with me standing there oblivious to what was about to happen, his legs get farther apart. In that moment, with him standing as close to me as he can possible get, he starts to pee. I booked it as far away from that cage as fast as I possibly could, but at the same time, couldn’t help looking back and wondering if he did that on purpose.
this time and time again. It seems as though everyone is running a race to get to their destination faster than everyone else. As I look into other cars, I see the familiar scene of people talking away on their cell phones, or sending emails on their blackberries. All of these people seem to be completely oblivious to all of their surroundings. People drive by at supersonic speeds in the biggest cars they could possibly find. At these times, it seems as though people are more prepared for a demolition derby than a simple commute to wherever they are trying to go. As these people get more and more obsessed with getting where they want to be, people begin honking their horns. As this is going on I can't imagine how any place, especially a zoo, can provide any peace from this hectic society. The Lincoln Children’s Zoo in fact though, was a nice and refreshing change from the bigger, louder, more expensive and more technologic things society seems to prefer today.I pulled up to a dainty white building splattered with spots of pink. Huge trees created a comfortable shadow from the midday sun. Little paw prints of different animals stamped in orange and green l
ead me from the parking lot to the front entrance. Pots of flowers and rows of plants greeted me as I walked in showing off so many colors it was almost overwhelming. I started to get the feeling I was walking into a preschool instead of a zoo. Before I can make it to the gate a big yellow arrow stops me saying, “Watch Your Step.” I follow the arrow down its pole and come across clunky, charcoal colored, yet rusted train tracks. This must take guests around on an outskirts tour of the zoo. Treating it like it was a street I look to my left to make sure its safe to cross. The tracks seem to get swallowed by all of the trees and all to soon they veer off so I couldn’t see where they went. Looking over to my right is the train, sitting there waiting for more guests to arrive so it can do its job. The small red and white-stripped painted train almost blinds me from its reflection off the sun. The six red benches look as if they were brand new, so clean and shiny it was almost like they were begging you to sit on them.I entered the zoo after paying the $6.42 admission fee. There are so many trees shading the entrance trail your eyes have to adjust to the dark shade they provide. Small leaves and plants still cover the ground, causing you crunch right through them on your way in. A small white sign, dulled from the sun, wind and rain stops me and Welcomes me to the Lincoln Children’s Zoo and says to the left is, “This way for fun.” The neat and organized trail bends off to the left then curves around to an opening where I can see the sun shining through the trees.
After passing through the clearing, the whiff of animals that the wind brings up to my nose reminds me that I truly am in a zoo. In front of me stands a bridge, almost looking like a little playground for kids. I walk into the area switching from pavement to woodchip, dirt and hay concocted ground. Standing under the light brown bridge with the sun shining through the spaces between the boards, I look around to see where that distinct smell is coming from. Llamas are off sleeping in the corner, their brown fur so thick is almost looks like dread locks. I decide then and there I wasn’t going over to their pen from hearing before they have a nag for sp
itting. All of a sudden a shadow is cast over me from on top of the bridge. I look up immediately to see a little goat passing right over walking to the other side of the petting zoo. He struts along making not much noise at all on the wood, eventually coming over to the fence by me to see if I am nice enough to feed him. His awkward stage made me laugh, as his ears were too big for his little frame yet his horns were barely peaking out of his head. It was almost like his ears didn’t get the memo that they have to wait for the rest of his body to grow too.This deserted looking exhibit all of a sudden catches my eye off to the right so I walk up to
the cage. The sign on the fence reads Reindeer. I scan my sights along the edge of the red and brown rusted fence and up the back looking for this so called reindeer. In Christmas stories and on TV you always see these reindeer and in my mind they are big animals that would need a lot of space; this pen suggested differently. There were two in the far back corner eating random, dry leaves while lying in the sun. One looks up from his meal and stares right in our direction. Slowly he makes his way over to our side of the fence. He comes closer into view and I can see his brown and white hair mixes together in certain places so it almost appears gray. His frosted white hooves make the click clack sound on the pavement as he approaches the fence. I reach over and touch the soft brown velvet that covers his antlers. The edge of his antler towards his ear is starting to tear as he is shedding the velvet. He is standing so close that some of his fur is sticking through the holes in the fence. Then, with me standing there oblivious to what was about to happen, his legs get farther apart. In that moment, with him standing as close to me as he can possible get, he starts to pee. I booked it as far away from that cage as fast as I possibly could, but at the same time, couldn’t help looking back and wondering if he did that on purpose. Society today is all about bigger, better, and faster things. The more expensive a
nd technologic it is, the better. The bigger the cars, houses and louder music always reign over everything else. Even the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha follows this trend. The park itself and the buildings are huge, it’s loud from all f the people, and they keep expanding adding the latest technology. What happened to wanting a small, quiet and peaceful experience instead of one that is going to leave you drained at the end of the day? The Lincoln Zoo was tranquil and organized. I walked in knowing exactly where I needed to go, there was no need to get out a map and figure out where each exhibit was. I didn’t have to battle chaotic crowds or stressed out moms. Our society today is straying farther and farther away from the more personal feel that things like the Lincoln Zoo give you. Sometimes there is no need for all of the extra baggage that people now are always craving. Sometimes, less is more. Sure you might have to battle obnoxious reindeer and goofy goats, but it’s only a small price to pay.
nd technologic it is, the better. The bigger the cars, houses and louder music always reign over everything else. Even the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha follows this trend. The park itself and the buildings are huge, it’s loud from all f the people, and they keep expanding adding the latest technology. What happened to wanting a small, quiet and peaceful experience instead of one that is going to leave you drained at the end of the day? The Lincoln Zoo was tranquil and organized. I walked in knowing exactly where I needed to go, there was no need to get out a map and figure out where each exhibit was. I didn’t have to battle chaotic crowds or stressed out moms. Our society today is straying farther and farther away from the more personal feel that things like the Lincoln Zoo give you. Sometimes there is no need for all of the extra baggage that people now are always craving. Sometimes, less is more. Sure you might have to battle obnoxious reindeer and goofy goats, but it’s only a small price to pay. 