Monday, 22 April 2013

Earth Day Lament

I was born mere months after the first Earth Day in 1970. In 1990, I marched, planted and recycled on the Earth Day twentieth anniversary. By 2000, Earth Day seemed like and after thought. In 2010, I was firmly committed to urban organic farming and buying, upcycling and reusing in a sustainable fashion.

This year, I find myself doing most of these things, but feeling very weary and, well, sad. That is, sad about the state of the world, the increasingly unpredictable, and even catastrophic, weather worldwide and in my own backyard. The spring fundraiser at my community garden (where I had helped plant fruit trees last fall and prune them, recently, over the Easter long weekend) closed down early, because a torrential rain: icy cold rain. I could not help, but think that we had it coming, not us at the garden, specifically, but us, as in humanity.

We have been carelessly messing around with things for sometime now. Over-consuming, burning fossil fuels at an increasing rate and standing by and doing very little, if anything at all to fight environmental injustices of many kinds. We have only begun to see the impacts that a radically unstable climate will have on our food supply, infrastructure, health and social and economic (even political) stability. And then, there is the havoc we are wrecking on other life, animals and plants. The animals, pets, must often wonder what kind of monsters we humans are, with our arrogance about our place in (or, more accurately, outside of the natural world). This is where members of older generations express relief that they will not be around when things "collapse" and, gee, isn't it too bad they we in the subsequent will be, or might be. So sorry.

I wish this were a cheery, feel-good Earth Day post, but, it is not. Nor do I think that I am being overly-negative (although, what does "overly-negative" mean nowadays with so many examples of our collective decay around us). I know that I am doing my part and doing my best; so are many others that I know and still others, around the world, even under great risk. I guess I am staring to feel the anxiety and fear of there being very little or no time left to have any positive effect on the direction of our societies.

But, next weekend, hopefully in good weather, I will continue to till the soil in my garden plots getting them ready for planting and tending. And soon, the summer farmer's markets will open selling seedlings, organic produce, artisan food and sustainable crafts. This summer I will continue to do and support all of these things. Through it all, I will keep my fingers crossed.

No comments:

Post a Comment