Earth Day 2025

I wish I had something profound and inspiring to write today for Earth Day. I can only emphasize that our planet is magnificent to me. It’s such a gift. I can only say that it makes no sense to me that powerful men destroy this planet and then look for a home on another.

But I have spent so many years of my life anguishing over human behavior and carelessness with our planet. I will be honest. I feel a little more disillusioned than I would like siting here writing about it tonight.

I still have hope though. I have hope that, when things get really bad, humans will say, “enough is enough, let’s work together and figure this out.” I have hope that, even if we don’t, the Earth will heal from our damage and go on to support life that may be so different from our own but that will be so beautiful. Though, really, humans are beautiful, are we not? Flaws are beautiful. But you can be beautiful and be tragic.

I have hope that, at some point, all of the little things we do will add up, and we will replace the people at the top who seem hell bent on creating their bunkers and letting the rest burn, who seem to think that destruction is inevitable because they don’t understand how resilient life is. They have never connected with Nature, and it shows. And we will say “no more, we love our home.” And Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer will be required reading in all classrooms.

It could happen, right? Sometimes–okay maybe most of the time–with humans, we have to break things before we realize we need to fix them.

And, while I am finding hope within my disillusionment, I am going to keep trying to be better as an individual. I will keep things until they break and then fix them if I can or get them fixed if I can. I will never spray chemicals in our yard. I will plant native plants. I will be careful with my water use. I will wear the same clothes over and over, and I won’t buy fleece ever again. I will try so hard not to waste. I will try to live more simply. And, finally, this summer, I am going to put in the clothesline I meant to put in last year but never did, as I struggled with long COVID.

And I will remember how good it feels when I put my hands in the Earth, and I will remember to be thankful for her and all the life she gives us.

Happy Earth Day, friends. Sending love. Please tell me what gives you hope. I could use it.

photo credit: Hans Isaacson, Unsplash

Green Day

Day 349 of 365

Today is Earth Day. I love Earth Day. Of course I wish Earth Day was every day, but we’re a long way from that, I’m afraid. Still, I am thankful that some of us are aware and trying to do things to help the dire situation we find ourselves in. I have had some people point out to me that events like Earth Day tend to focus more on the things individuals can do to help the planet, but the big changes needed will need to come from the government level. We need big things to happen. We need regulation and support and some money at the global level to help make shifts in our global economies happen more quickly and less painfully. I get this.

However, trying to do things myself, at the individual level, at least makes me feel useful, and that seems important too.

I grew up in a throw-away culture. It was a bigger-is-better culture. It was a consumerism-is-a-fun-activity kind of culture. I threw away food. I bought way too many things made of plastic. I was not nearly careful enough with water conservation. It has taken me decades to shed some of this thinking and these habits, and I still wish to do better.

Every Earth Day, I try make one little goal I can meet in the year to do better and make my footprint on this beautiful planet a little smaller. My goal for this year is to set up a clothes line in our yard and use it to dry our clothes in the spring, summer, and fall. I have always been hesitant on this issue because my autism makes me really sensitive to textures in my clothing. Line-dried clothing always felt “crunchy” to me, but I researched it and am hopeful there are solutions. I will have to write more and let you know if what I read about works.

In the meantime, I am just thankful for such a beautiful place to live. Maine is such a magnificent state. I love our trees. I recently researched an article I wrote for a local magazine about Maine’s forests, and I learned that Maine is the most forested state in the U.S. and these forests sequester nearly 70% of the carbon emissions from our state. How wonderful is that?

Wherever you are, I hope there is beautiful nature somewhere near you and you get to enjoy it often. And here’s a picture of some of Ron’s beautiful organic seedlings that he is “hardening off” before they go into the garden. Aren’t these beautiful babies?

Happy Earth Day!

What’s Going On?

by James Sands, guest blogger

“… and I scream from the top of my lungs, WHAT’S GOING ON?! “

My wife was casting about for potential guest bloggers, and I reluctantly answered the call—not certain if my current brand of comma-laced (the world gives me pause), cynical incredulity would be deemed appropriate for public consumption—but, if you are reading this, and hopefully not reluctantly, it, apparently, was.

Perhaps some or maybe even most of you will remember the pop tune from the early nineties, “What’s Up,” written and performed by Linda Perry, formerly of 4 Non Blondes, and its unavoidable, inherent question. Linda Perry could belt one out, and that question was aurally etched into the auditory pathways of my brain with the earnest fierceness and underlying frustration of someone who, I imagine, knows the biggest and most important questions are typically the ones that go unanswered. Her question, timely then, is even more so today.

“What’s going on?”

There is much I do not understand. We are in the midst of what is possibly the greatest challenge humanity has ever faced. And, in addition to climate change, we are also in a pandemic that has sickened almost 250,000,000 people and caused the deaths of over 5,000,000 people world wide. This seems like a time when humans should come together, should unite in common purpose against global crises that detrimentally impact us all.

Yet what do we do? We divide; we attack; we fracture—swayed by forces that seemingly are out to confuse, profit, segregate and control. Why?

It is apparent many of us live in two separate realities, polar realities supported and fueled, in part, by major media organizations that, seemingly, no longer view themselves as purveyors of the news, keepers of the sacred truth. Instead, they have become “social influencers.” My spell-check does not like the word “influencers; “neither do I. I am disgusted by it. The truth is sacred—but not to some.

Social media for example. What promise. What possibility. What potential to educate and unite. But no. Social media has become a powerful wedge for the dividers—and a money machine for those who have the power to check and eradicate the lies that live and thrive there. Tragically, it is also, for some, the only source of “news.”

Why is it easier for some people to believe prominent democrats run child prostitution rings out of pizza shops or JFK junior is not deceased but has been in hiding the past twenty-two years and will return to become president or Covid vaccines contain satanic markers than it is for them to believe the burning of fossil fuels has altered our climate to the point where we now are on the cusp of irreversible, planet-wide disaster?

The internet, via social media, now runs the biggest tabloid press on the planet. 

I can see with my own eyes the climate is warming. Ten years ago, my young son and I built a snowman on the day after Halloween. This year, on November 2, I harvested the last of my peppers from plants that were still producing blossoms, yielding almost a half bushel basket the day before our first major frost. This in Bangor, Maine. I have never had pepper plants survive, let alone thrive, outdoors past mid October.  

I have been to Los Angles; I have been to Boston; I have been to Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis, Buffalo. I have witnessed the traffic; I have seen the sick gray skylines, the billowing clouds of smoke. I have watched the documentaries, seen the pictures of smog-shrouded cities in India, Pakistan, China, Kuwait, Uganda, Bangladesh, Russia, Mexico, Peru, Egypt, and Iran to list a few.

Where does all of that pollution come from and where does it all go? I have read the literature. I understand how CO2 emissions affect the upper atmosphere. Climate change driven by the burning of fossil fuels is accepted as fact by a majority of scientists world-wide. Do they have an agenda? Are they making money by promoting this. Is there an international corporation of scientists whose board of directors dictates this truth be told in order to keep their stock holders cash-fat and happy?

I do not own a gigantic mushroom-shaped projectile filled with enough liquid rocket Viagra to penetrate and inseminate the mesosphere nor do I have a cowboy hat. I grow a garden; I raise chickens, and I refuse to be divided. Many of my neighbors do not agree with my political views. I refuse to hate them for it. Granted, I do not agree with or understand why they are where they are regarding issues like climate change and Covid-19, but I do understand how they were led there. Still, I refuse to be divided.

We are all human; we are all one; this planet is one—our only one. I cannot escape it nor would I want to. I love the earth and all the creatures on it. This is my home. Agree with them or not, all humans are my people.

And this is where I really get cynical. Do I think we will come together to save ourselves? Right now, I do not. There are powerful forces aligned against us, powerful people hell-bent on dividing us–hell-bent on turning this planet into a hell. Too many seem unwilling to change; too many seem profit-driven rather than socially motivated. Too many seem selfish, mired in ego and greed. As a whole, we humans just might be fatally flawed. We continue to repeat the same terrible mistakes, revel in the same ridiculous arguments, fall along the same unwholesome divisions.

Will we survive? Will we find the common ground that exists all around us, under us? If we are going to find a way out of this, we had better. And that, now, is the ultimate truth.  

And maybe next year, I’ll plant watermelons.

photo credit: Rachel Jarboe, Unsplash