Saturday, December 15, 2018


If humans were to disappear from the face of the earth,  the earth wouldn't notice.  It would go on growing trees and fields,  evolving from this state to that state,  poking it's little fingers up through the macadam and parking lots,  wearing down the buildings and machinery,  until it looked once again much the way the rain forests in South America look,  mysterious lumps overgrown with vegetation.

It wouldn't matter a  hoot nor a holler about where we went or why or how.  Or even that we were gone.  Snow would still fall, or not, rain, drought, aridity,   typhoons and monsoons, earthquakes and tidal waves, sweeping clean, shaking things up.    This is, geologically, still a relatively young planet.  It's still inventing itself, and we are part of the process--not the end result, just another bit of evolutionary history; always--like everything else out there--on the edge of obliteration.

Hard to fathom sometimes, we get so wrapped up in our seemingly ineluctable importance, but the planet wouldn't pay much attention.  I doubt if it would miss us very much, either. 

I find that strangely comforting.


  1. I love that. For a long time now, when I get all crimped up with first world worries, I remember we're just a little speck on the face of the universe, and it really makes more sense. Yes.

    When I see wildflowers coming back over and over to my manicured little development, and trees starting everywhere, and birds seemingly adapting to man-made change, it's great. They will survive us. And the insects will survive them!

    1. Exactly.

      The earth is connected to itself, root and stream, everywhere. What we do as humans, no matter how permanent it seems, is nothing to what the earth does to itself.
      The trees win, as it were, every time.

      My garden, like yours, was tended fiercely, every day of the summer. Mulch, compost, clip clip clip. Pretty thing. I took great pleasure in it.

      For the last few years I've had to let it go a bit, partly because of the weather, and other concerns. And subsequently the deer, the woodchucks, the birds, are having a field day with spent flowers and strange blooms. And so, it appears, am I.

      The land wins. The trees win.

  2. Hey, speak for yourself, JT. I am ALL. Nothing is without me.

    1. Well of course you are. Silly me. Whatever you are, you ARE, all over the place. We knew that.

  3. Ron, I never knew you were a cat.

  4. One ''earth-shrug'' and we are history!
    One meteor and we join the dinosaurs.

  5. >>raises one eyebrow. Raises the other eyebrow<<

    One serious solar hiccup and we are not only history, but toast, too.

    Isn't it grand to have choices..