03-05-19
Just when you assume the worst is over, winter returns, this haunting
beast we must endure for a quarter of our lives, waiting for the inevitability
of spring.
Unlike fall which explodes upon us usually in one last gush before all
goes bare, spring creeps up on us, a bit of it popping up here or there, yet
rarely all at once in the same place.
Day light savings time comes this weekend in a year when Easter comes
remarkably late, both serving in the past as sign s of changing season, the
first symbolic of humanity's arrogant belief it can control nature, the second
that tribute to nature's ability to resurrect despite all we do to harm her.
Our arrogance shows worst when we claim we have power to undo through
intention what we caused by accident, a retelling of that old tale about
spoiled coffee. fixing things are bound to make the situation worse. Yet you
cannot tell those who see themselves as saviors that it is best to let mother
nature heal herself when we clearly cannot start over with a fresh cup of
coffee.
Fixers are compelled to fix even when at time what they fix is not
broken.
Sometimes we are in such a rush to hurry spring we delay it, all of our
schemes frustrated by our inability to see the signs of change, popping up here
and there if not all at once.
We keep ranting on about how we need to reduce our carbon footprint,
touting energy sources that as yet are proven unreliable why condemning those
that are, carrying around in our pockets tiny devices more toxic than the coal
we burn to keep them charged. We complain about the mounds of plastic poor
people use and dispose of and end in the sea while ignoring the poles of used
technology seeping poisons into the soil, like a toxic elephants’ graveyard
that was supposed to keep us from cutting down trees, each device filled with
unrenewable resources to replace trees which are.
In telling us we should abandon air travel, the fixers revert to tat
old adage that if god had intended us to fly, he or she would have given us
wings. but since fixers do not believe in god, they must play god, setting down
in stone rules by which the rest of us must live.
But there are rules we live by dictated by powers beyond our control,
if not god them a force of nature we seem determined to defy or reverse, fixers
determined to bring us back to the caves to uninvent fire or at least keep
Prometheus from acquiring it for us, back to a time when anticipating spring is
more than a luxury ,but a desperate struggle for survival.