Dear Mother Earth,
Sorry I haven’t written sooner. It is a little nuts around here trying to keep up with everything, but you understand that.
I added another title to my job descriptions: worm rescuer.
Some days I step out the front door and there, on the walkway, is one of your relatives, writhing around, acting crazy. Yes, a relative, even carries your name with its name – earthworm.
Why do they do this? Are earthworms suicidal? They are going to die if they stay exposed in the sunshine. They’ll dry up or be easy prey for birds and any fishermen passing by who need live bait. Why did they leave the cool dirt? Why leave a safe place? It is one of life’s mysteries.
When I try to pick up an earthworm (yuk) they are not the least bit pleased. I’m not happy about doing this either. They writhe in my hand, often falling to the ground. But as soon as I can get them back in a dirt/leave area, they burrow right in.
Speaking of dirt, your dirt, Mother Earth, I want to thank you for dirt and well, you should know I’m into it recently. Dirt is wonderful stuff. Dark, rich dirt from the compost pile is now in a 4×4 foot box labeled “Lucy’s garden”. Scattered lettuce seeds. Planted some tomatoes. Put mint right under where the hose hangs down, and water drips. Mint loves water.
Even though I don’t write often, I try to think about you in the things I do. I’ve replaced all the incandescent light bulbs with long-lasting florescent bulbs. The compost pile gets all the vegetable and fruit peelings, and the mowed grass. The vegetable garden is organic, no pesticides, because I know that what goes into your dirt sinks down and 20 years later, we’re drinking it out of the tap, in Florida anyway, where water percolates through the ground and seeps down into the Floridan Aquifer.
But, I have to confess a failing. I failed the Earth Day Footprint Quiz.
Failed big-time. It must have gone to my head when the Chamber of Commerce named me Environmentalist of the Year. Not hardly.
The foot print quiz measures how many acres you use altogether for food, mobility, shelter, goods/services. My footprint is 22 acres. That’s huge. Big Foot wears smaller shoes. Worldwide, there are just 4.5 biologically productive acres per person.
The quiz result concluded by saying: “If everyone lived like you, we would need five planets.” Five planets! I’m a living breathing walking earth hog!
I am so sorry to fail you. It puts me, just one person, right up there with the big baddies, the ones who keep you so busy trying to repair the damage from ripping down the Amazon forests, paving over water recharge areas to make yet another parking lot, filling the air with toxic wastes from cars and smokestacks.
My failings in the test came in driving a car every day without carrying passengers, never using public transportation, living in a large house, using lots of resources. Sounds pretty American. But that’s no excuse.
I thought being a worm rescuer and planting an organic garden are little things that made it all right for you, but no, there’s so much more to do, every day.
Taking care of you is a lifelong commitment, not just a one-time pledge. The decisions I make – to buy locally made things, or buy from far away (much more wasteful), all count.
Instead of presents on your birthday, Friday, April 22, Earth Day, presents that consume wrapping paper, transportation, money, I’ll make a promise I can keep. I promise not to drive my car all day on your birthday. That should clean the air a little bit.
I’m hoping you will get letters from lots of other people with their promises of things they can do to make you happy. It is a step towards total commitment.
When you have a moment, could you please write back and explain why earthworms writhe on the sidewalks? Thanks. And can I get bonus points for picking them up and putting them back in the dirt? Just wondering . . .
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For more information:
www.earthday.net – take the ecological footprint test.
Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring is a classic look at how everything we do matters to the environment.