Happy Earth Day…Twenty-eight years ago on Earth Day I, I could have been anywhere…I really do not recall what that sophomore in high school was doing. Especially since those days were lived down wind from one of the largest petrochemical complexes in the world.
I grew up just a couple of miles south of the Houston Ship Channel. Not a place anyone dreamed to be living in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. An era when we could see the air we breathed as often as not…But still I’ve spent most of my l;ife amidst this massive industrial complex on the Texas Gulf coast. Which could explain the symbolism of choosing Earth Day 2010, the fortieth anniversary as the date to begin my transition from this life and work to the next phase of my journey. I have already given notice at work that I will be “retiring” on Earth Day 2010. That will be when the real journey of discovery will begin.
In line with those thoughts I saw this in my Weekly Grist:
About 350
350 is the red line for human beings, the most important number on the planet. The most recent science tells us that unless we can reduce the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere to 350 parts per million, we will cause huge and irreversible damage to the earth.
And so Bill McKibben pushes on. I just finished his Wandering Home and I wish him luck on this continuation of his journey.
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I was standing out back last night listening to the insects sing, watching the big, full, red moon rise. There were a few fireflies flashing their interest out in the field. There have been a few out every night for a few weeks now. None of those synchronized dances I saw a few years back on the side of Nettles Knob across the river from Grandfather Mountain, but a pleasure to watch just the same. Fireflies always take me back to those summer nights at my grandparents…Everyone in lawn chairs a s the evening cooled towards night. Grandpa telling tall tales, Grandma correcting him. We kids alternating between listening and chasing the “lightning bugs” with mason jars. We all had to have a firefly lamp for the bedside to blink us to sleep…
As I was watching the dance of the swallows at dusk on Sunday (it’s a nightly dance over the five or six acres that make up the field behind my house) I was wondering if the were eating my nightly firefly show. I am sure they weren’t, but the question still lingered as I stood there in the sweet smell of honeysuckle on a cool spring night.
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The road is calling my name so it’s…Hi Ho… Hi Ho….
