“What about me?”
Updated: Apr 6
If nature could talk, what would it ask us?
Oh, nature, who are you?
In your breath you carry the memories of generations gone past
And in your tears the mistakes of our inhuman, human world.
The utter exhilaration of life reflects itself upon the blue summer skies
that penetrate our youth,
Yet we turn them gray!
So you scream “What about me?
Sunset in Poneloya, Nicaragua. Image: Ana Sofia Chamorro
Oh, nature, how are you?
Your forests burn, your glaciers melt, your creatures perish;
The ruinous sound of your weeping tears through the twilight silence.
Slowly, rapidly, you are dying. We are killing you,
Yet your motherly embrace awaits since dawn!
Don’t you ask yourself, “What about me?”
A storm approaching the beach, taking over the sunset shown in the previous picture. I took this image on one of my trips to the beach.
Oh, nature! Have I thanked you?
For displaying the most profound colors of my soul in your flowers?
Or for letting my spirit and imagination wander freely upon your deserts and streams?
Or for giving all of you gladly, daily, to a band of killers,
And for giving me life, when I have so covetously taken yours?
As a mere whisper, finally, you insist, “What about me?”
This rainbow appeared between the clouds some months ago on the soccer field while I was in P.E. Image credit: Ana Sofia Chamorro
In memory of the Green Iguana, whose death followed not long after being set free (and who was the subject of my previous article). A maintenance worker grabbed the iguana, which was found by Ms. Szachy in the Science lab, and liberated her on the terrain next to the school. A group of kids carrying slingshots and accompanied by dogs aimed at the iguana and killed it. They ignored the pleas that the maintenance worker and the security guard made to let it be.