Dear Mother Nature,
I’m sorry. We fucked up. We have this beautiful world to live in and in some places it still is. I see it on the hikes through the canyon by my house. When I see the creeks and streams to dip my hands in, the willows with low branches for me to climb. I feel it at the park, lying under the shade of the sycamores with the wind on my face. Speckled sunlight filtering through the leaves, dusting grass.
You handed us this gift and we spat in your face. We took your world, tore it apart, then complain it wasn’t enough. We steal the homes of your other children, claiming it all for ourselves.
Even now, I write this apology on the flesh of a tree. Humanity are are scavengers, scraping the skin of your body for more, more, more.
Mother Nature, I’m so sorry for all that we’ve done and all that we will do. I only hope we can give back all that we’ve taken. There’s no repairing all the damage. We can only try to make a difference while you’re still here, before it’s too late.
I’m sorry. I’m trying to make a difference in my own, small way.
~ Quill ~