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  • Writer's pictureDarcy Reed

Mother Earth

I’m concerned today about the weather and its implications for global destruction. Every summer, the hurricanes are stronger, the tornadoes more numerous, the hailstones larger and deadly. The floods come and cover the towns as the rivers overflow. The fires burn the forests where the rain never comes. The animals get more confused.

In the past, there were many changes in the weather, too, of course: floods and droughts, migrations of peoples and such. The difference now is the intensity and the speed with which these changes are occurring. Here in the western US, the traveling car windshields used to get covered with bugs; now, no bugs. That’s freaky, isn’t it? If I were a bird, I’d be really worried or extinct, but I’m just a privileged suburbanite, fearing global warming that would get bad maybe in generations hence, not this generation, not us.

Our ancestors came and took this land from the caretakers who it belonged to. It belonged to the natives because they didn’t try to own it. Now, we’ve mined it, poisoned it, driven all the hell over it leaving our disgusting vaporous wind behind.

The children play on the pesticide lawns of America. They will be sacrificed like in ancient civilizations, only to the god of greed this time, and the end will not be to their liking. They’ll have to sacrifice more children to make room for the elite to share what finally will remain of this planet.


Image by <a href=";utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1581202">Jonny Lindner</a> from <a href=";utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1581202">Pixabay</a>

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