I’ve always liked the word amalgamation. It was born a noun. It came out meaning, “the action, process or result of combining, or uniting.”
Combining, uniting. A collaboration. A cooperation.
That describes our planet. Perfectly. It is a big blue ball of collaboration, with a whole bunch of balance and equilibrium stirred in. Planet Amalgamation.
It spins around on this axis, all the while, orbiting the sun. Turning and dancing and prancing all around our galaxy. There is a very tender balance in its construction.
You would not think little, tiny, people, standing on the face of the big ball, would not matter that much. But they do. Especially, the ones behind desks. Desks in important buildings, like the white houses and such.
Last night, before I closed my computer, I watched a video that my friend Jean posted. It was the story of 14 wolves being released into Yellowstone National Park. Spoiler Alert. It tells the magical story about how this action completely transformed the park, for the better. It had an incredible “cause and effect” impact on a myriad of animals, forests, rivers, and the like. Their mere presence replenished the land, the sky, and the water, with things that had been ruined much earlier. Everything from birds to beavers began to thrive and grow. The transformation was phenomenal. Better than that, even. It is good to watch, if you so feel the desire. Three minutes of your life.
[https://www.facebook.com/AppreciateENG/videos/1700773490222456/?hc_ref=ARQ9avMoqlID1AuyYvuIfVtymWLgq-I_R9mShIaKSU2V9JI6aVGxjZNwx_bHUeKSCIQ&pnref=story]
But the change in the environment, in the balance, was truly wondrous. And that is the point. Our actions have a wide and reaching effect on the world around us. This can go either way. For the betterment of our world. OR. For the detriment. We, the tiny, little, people standing on the big blue wall. And they, the ones behind the desks.
Every time I hear of one of our National Parks being closed, or reduced in size, it makes my head explode right off its gaskets. Each incident of Environment cutbacks makes me dizzy, and then I fall down on my Keister. (Which actually might be the result of the planet spinning so fast on the axis. But I think it is the Environmental Dizzy-Go-Booms.)
Regardless, these decisions have a powerful rippling effect. The moment that signature is scribbled across that white page, with those dark and looming words printed on its surface. Closed. Reduced. Canceled. Destroyed. We fail.
The signature of the little man, behind the little desk, in the little white house, on our big, blue ball.
Some days I feel helpless. I want to grab that pen right out of those mindless little hands and heads. But it doesn’t work that way.
I watch videos of wolves, and I cry. In sad, and in happy. In worry, and in hope.
Since I can’t break that pen, today, I’ll recycle, and not use so much water, and I won’t drive unless I absolutely have to. This spring, I’ll see about planting some trees. I’ll keep feeding the birds, and the squirrels, and the raccoons. And I’ll say another invocation for our planet.
You see. All this destruction, and harm? The disassembling of the perfect amalgamation? One day we will be sorry and we won’t be able to take it back.
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“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden
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“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”
― John Muir
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“Earth’s crammed with heaven…
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes.”
― Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh
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