It's A Non-refundable World

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads. Henry David Thoreau

EARTH DAY is coming and I’ve been thinking about the billions-of-years-old blue marble we call home. It’s clear that in this current wink of time humankind is the biggest biological threat to all life on the planet. Ravaging resources and hooked on cheaply made products, polluting chemicals, fast fashions and throwaway plastics, it’s a disposable mentality in a non-refundable world. We are literally choking on our own over-consumption, compromising the very air and water that make existence possible. If we keep it up, sooner rather than later, Earth could be as barren and oxygen deprived as the moon or Mars. A serious mind-shift needs to happen where there is value in having less and treasuring more of what we already have. Are we up for the task? Can we reverse damage done? I wonder as I go for my walks and catalog the fragile beauty. Some say those who concern themselves with such matters are Chicken Little crying, “The sky is falling.” I say hat’s off to the environmentalists/scientists and common folk who pursue ways to turn things around. Even if a reusable bag at the grocery store seems like spit on a battleship … a whole lot of similar small steps can result in a heap of difference and extend this magical moment in time.

I heart this planet is what the (above) art at the bottom of 1001 Steps in Ocean Park seems to say. Traces of humanity are everywhere.

On bright breezy days kites share the sky with the birds.

Several little known stairways lead to the beach in the South Surrey area.

The stairs over the train track at the end of 24th Avenue are covered in mesh.

Couples attach padlocks there to insure their relationships, perhaps imagining they're in Paris where there are so many love-locks attached to bridges that they're banned now in some places.

Mysterious pools form at low tide. They come and go without making a splash.

When the sun peeks through the clouds the ocean sparkles like fairy dust.

Shells are collected off the beach floor. Some creatures leave their homes unwittingly while others dig in. Some never leave, yet willingly make their homes uninhabitable, even when it's the only home they've got.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms