I pass two dead baby racoons on the steep hill to our little home. Their bodies are shattered on the painted white line. I wonder if they are the same ones whose eyes stared at me through the night. I carefully swerve around the furry creatures, lives smashed so unaturally.
There's a crumbling stone wall on the side of this paved escarpment and I think on all the walls we build.
|The escarpment leading to our home.|
Walls to seperate.
Walls to keep out.
Walls to show whos is whos.
Walls of indifference.
Walls of ignorance.
Walls to keep your car from flying off the edge of a mountain.
But no walls to protect those baby animals trying to get around their own habitat invaded by human dwellers. The roads paved over rocky mountains and then invaded by metal death machines on wheels. I wonder how many creatures have been under my wheel. Oh, we have walls, we have enough walls... but the right ones?
|The curve leading to the escarpment route down from our community to the town below.|
I wonder how many forests I've ploughed unknowingly. How many escarpments I've painted with yellow lines. I wonder how my life is impacting the green space surrounding me. I wonder when we will have enough walls, enough roads, enough stores, enough bigger, better homes. When will it be enough?
When there is no river left? No mountains filled with green? No fields of gold untouched by modern man? And how many roads will we pave right through the woodlands? How many places will we be heading to, only to get there and realize they are no more?
We build walls around nature and charge an admission.
We run over chipmunks on country roads and blame them for being in the way.
We erect our kingdoms overtop of God's blessed creation and then we wonder why it's so hard to
Five Minute Friday