“One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds. Much of the damage inflicted on land is quite invisible to laymen. An Ecologist must either harden his shell and make believe that the consequences of science are none of his business, or he must be the doctor who sees the marks of death in a community that believes itself well and does not want to be told otherwise.”
Also Leopold, A Sand County Almanac
We desire this not to be the case. We want our immediate environment to feel secure. Then we can reach out and help the world beyond our doors. Unless we become comfortably complacent or apathetic.
Sonnet #4 in the hexalogy
She looks upon the land and she just knows
that things could be much better than they are
we daytripping visitors blink and doze
while wise ones see into the future, far.
When hindsight and foresight fall by the way
and the lessons offered aren’t learned
as “media-hype” says what it may
promoting fear, their paychecks are earned.
What else is new across this span of strife?
Human burying their heads in the sand.
We hear past echoes and we join the chime
“I can’t make a difference, one small life.”
Remember, holding hands, we are many
infused with earth love, we are not puny.
What does your one small voice want to say? Grab a pen, your paper and write.