I have two things to tell you.
One– your computer is garbage. Just as the plastic chair I’m sitting in is garbage, just as the shoes on my feet are garbage, just as the bones in my fingers are garbage– everything will eventually be thrown away.
My bed sheets are poison. Just as the plastic chair I’m sitting in is poison, just as the computer I’m typing on is poison, just as my fingers are inches away from poison– the world is filled with toxins. Our scientists are brewing new poisons every day, and, as we struggle to dispose of them, many poisons are mobilized into our atmosphere, our food system, and our soil. We are making the world a dangerous place.
Two– I saw a pair of swans yesterday. I was on a run, and I spotted them in the distance as I crossed an icy river bridge. They flew away when I approached. Upstream from where they took off, a metal pipe pumped steaming-hot water into the river.
In any other country than Iceland, a steaming pipe would betray the irresponsible, meddling hands of industry. Here, geothermally-heated water flows freely from the Earth, and sometimes makes its way into the glacial rivers. The swans I saw– which live in a cold, frozen country– had found a tiny oasis of warmth. I regret having scared them away.
I tell you these things because they have led me to a disturbing conclusion.
The universe is a freezing, empty cosmos; Earth is a warm, small oasis. The places we live on this planet are even smaller oases on our icy world. Every day the world fills with garbage, every day our cities begin to choke on the poisons of industry, our homes– our warm oases– grow a little colder. And, unlike swans, when the heat goes out for us, there will be nowhere to fly.
By Nathan Tutchton