Earth’s magnetic field.

Walking with Caju on a quiet afternoon, the breeze lightly touching my face, I let myself be carried by the silence of the kibbutz. It was one of those afternoons when you walk without thinking much, just following the path. The podcast in my headphones was about science and dogs, but I wasn’t paying attention. Then Caju began to turn, as he always does, tracing circles on the ground, and the scientist’s explanation caught me by surprise.

He said that dogs, when defecating, tend to align themselves with the Earth’s magnetic field, preferring the north-south axis. For Caju, it seemed simple, like breathing, something written in his body. I watched with the strange feeling that there’s more order in the world than we imagine, even in the most ordinary things. 

It wasn’t the discovery I was looking for, but maybe that’s how vital things happen. The big truths come when we’re distracted. Caju, unknowingly, showed me that even the simplest gestures follow a logic that escapes our control.

And us? Do we have this inner compass, too? Or are we just spinning aimlessly, thinking we know where we’re going while invisible forces push us elsewhere?

As Caju finished, I got lost in thought. Like this walk, life seems less about reaching a destination and more about the footprints we leave behind. What guides us? Do we have as much control as we like to believe?

And then I thought of the politicians. Those who should have a moral compass, knowing where they’re headed… Do they also align with something more significant, or do they shit without knowing where their crap is pointing? 

That might be the real mystery. Ultimately, we’re all like dogs, spinning in search of a north. Some of us leave random tracks, thinking any path will do, as long as they’re not the first to smell what they’ve left behind.