Happy Earth Day to You

Hey Earth,

I just wanted to wish you a very happy Earth Day!  🙂  I can’t believe you’re, like, 4.54 billion years old!  Bet I won’t look half as good as you when I’m that age.  What’s your secret?

So … what are you doing to celebrate today?  Something awesome I hope, because you totally deserve it after all the stuff you’ve had to put up with lately.  I know, I know, you’ll roll with the changes like you usually do.  It’s the rest of us I’m worried about, right?  All of us life forms who don’t really have anywhere else to go as the going gets hotter, drier, wetter, stormier, more crowded, etc.  As you and I know, adaptation takes time.  And sure, some of us will adapt–thus far I’m betting on crows, rats, wasps, cockroaches, stinging nettles, dandelions, and my own ever-adaptable species (at least the more well-off ones).  Others, like wolverines and polar bears, won’t be so lucky.

Sorry, I’m digressing here.  And I so didn’t want to rain on your happy day.  Speaking of being sorry, this seems like a good time to apologize for pretty much taking you for granted the rest of the year.  Damn, it’s easy to forget that my family, friends, animals, and I depend on you for our very lives.  Anyway, thank you for all the air, food, water, and other gifts you gave me this past year.  I truly appreciate them.  The mountains were especially lovely (when they weren’t hazed in wildfire smoke).

I bet you’re probably wondering at this point whether all you’re getting is this lame card, but come on, you know me better than that.

For starters, here’s my promise that I’ll keep working to mend my wasteful ways.  Sure, I’ve made some progress, but there’s still so much more I can do.  Be better about slashing my family’s food waste, for instance, and remember to take our reusable bags into the grocery store more often.  Stop buying new stuff I don’t really need and look for other ways to make our home more energy efficient.  Plan our carbon-spewing trips into town more wisely and research that whole offset thing before we fly off on vacation again.

I promise, too, that I’ll continue to make our farm a haven for wildlife and keep it free of poisons, even when the slugs and buttercups sorely test the limits of my patience.  I promise that I’ll try to pick up some litter on my country walks, even when I’m tired and it feels like it makes no difference whatsoever.  I promise that I’ll try to be bolder and more outspoken in my support for you, even when it seems like no one is listening or that it’s too late anyway.

I promise to do something, even if it’s just a small thing, this day and every day, because to do nothing would mean not caring.

These are my gifts to you.

Love ya, you big beautiful orb,

Cherie