What will you leave us this time?

As I roam aimlessly through my backyard woods, Buddy rushes past me, intent on overcoming the rabbit that preceded him.  Notes from an acoustic guitar wind their way through computer chips and plastic, into my headphones, ultimately reaching the part of my soul that is perpetually moved by their every motion.  The child inside me is soothed by their connection to infinite emotions and memories.  As of late, the lyrics of this particular song have touched me in an oddly different yet similarly inspiring way.  Feeling particularly thoughtful, I locate a patch of dry leaves near the river and settle in for a respite.

At first glance the lyrics seem completely devoid of reference to issues of environment, but when I hear the song in these particular surroundings, my first thoughts are of my generation’s responsibility to the environment and my personal obligation to the protection and appreciation of our earth.  What, I question, makes us so willing to ignore the signs of the damage we are doing to our home?  Maybe we are just too fortunate.  Maybe we take for granted the beauty of what we have.  Too easily, we brush off the idea that our earth needs our help in sustaining itself. 

From the top of the tree under which I sit, a squirrel descends, scurrying past and interrupting my thoughts.  Just as that seemingly insignificant squirrel plays a definitive role in the processes of his home, we have an even greater part in maintaining the balance of our own.

Maybe we find it difficult to feel sorry for something that seems so powerful, so eternal, so larger than life.  I admit, sometimes I find it hard to contemplate that I might make a difference to something this grand.  But that’s exactly it.  Without us, without our help, the earth will waste away.  It will fade and wither, becoming only a remnant, a washed-out memory of its former majesty.  This entity that gives us life does so asking nothing more in return than for us to afford it the same respect.  It’s ironic. We hold the cards. 

The final notes of the song play out and I am rocked by the pulsating beat of the next song on the playlist.  Swiftly, I rip the headphones from my ears, hoping to maintain some of the wonderful connection I had felt only moments earlier. 

As Buddy and I make our way over the last of the heavily-wooded hills, I gaze back to my resting spot.  My reflections leave me with the gnawing feeling that something must be done.  Something must be done to protect this universal house.