Passing through that charred city,
A tree-stump there, perhaps is green, is green.
I keep thinking about the tremendous amount of cultivation of land (acres and acres of it) that I saw on the drive to Nebraska. It's all around the wildlife refuge where we are camping. On the one hand, I'm truly amazed by all the human intervention and ingenuity. These plains don't get enough rain to support the immense crops. Irrigation has been employed to take advantage of the ample ground water. What a complex system! Water from the N. Platte River is channeled into canals, then different means are used to get it to the crops: ditches, sprinkler systems, plastic hosing laid along the ground from which the water seeps . . . Like I said, I'm amazed at what humanity has accomplished to assure its survival.
On the other hand, though, I also feel a sense of loss. I mean, these may be some of the most "civilized" places I have ever seen. I've seen vast amounts of land completely domesticated. The extreme measures that have been used to maintain these crops feel like a fight against nature; maybe even a conquering of her. When I compare the cultivated land with the preserves, I feel sad for our Earth, like Her systems are being thrown very off balance. Biologically, the earth is very fucked up. Our ecosystems are breaking down. Does the human race really need to conquer our mother (nature) in order to survive? What about living in harmony with the other species on this planet? What about honest communication with what's "out there"? I'm curious about what the next few days are going to mean to me. What other revelations (personal, of course) will emerge from me?