We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.
[Marianne Williamson]

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Ugggh... this weather!

In the last week, my favourite roses have roasted, my gardenias have gasped their last, my dahlias are dead and my crepe myrtles are crispy. I know I have neglected my garden since Wombat was born, but it's not as though we haven't been watering. Yeti has been pumping from the dam almost every evening... but to no avail.

Last night, he was telling me about his global warming premonition. He had a nightmare in which the entire earth was a ball of red dust and the devil stood astride what used to be the greenest, most luxuriant landscapes, laughing and laughing and laughing, with no-one to oppose him.

The scary thing is, it's quite feasible - and not that far away in planetary terms. I am somewhat of a mythical ostrich, burying my head in the sand (real ostriches aren't silly enough to actually do that!) As long as I can see babies, butterflies and birds around me, I believe the world will go on.

But what will my great great grandchildren see? Sure, it's a cliche... but perhaps the time has come to look beyond the rhetoric and seriously think about answering it (there's still at least two levels of procrastination there... I sure am predictable.)

I studied law as it seemed to be the best way to ensure I would be able to support my children when the need arose. I think I'm slowly hearing the message (being shouted at me from every side) that I should take an even longer term view and nurture my dilettantish penchant into a crusader's passion for environmental law.

I might surprise myself by making a difference.

This thinking is linked to two other ongoing mental themes:

First, there is our neverending discussion as parents about where we should move to provide the best surroundings for our adorable Wombat and his (twinkle-in-the-eye) siblings. Back in the archives, I mentioned a recurring dream in which I saw a big, white house with wide verandahs overlooking the sea. It was called 'Butternook' (that's how it sounds, though I'm not sure if that's how it is spelt). In our discussion last night, Yeti mentioned the same house (even though I had not told him of my dream, I immediately recognised his description). We had each focussed on different details, but as we filled in the blanks in each others' picture, we began to feel that this was a real place and it was waiting to be ours. It's out there somewhere. Now we just have to find it!

Secondly, there is my search for a word for this year. I wanted to take this challenge seriously and have rejected all the candidates so far considered (it would take too long to list and explain them all) as not having enough BITE to be sufficient inspiration. This year has a lot of potential to shape my... no, OUR future, and I don't want to let it drift by and be wasted like so many of my years have been.

I have thought and prayed and meditated and dreamed about finding the right word, and it seems significant that so many different threads are tying themselves into one consistent and very challenging pattern.

I have chosen my word for 2007.

~ Environment ~

1 comment:

Steff said...

All our poor plants are not enjoying the stage 3 water restrictions - being able to water only twice a week is hard especially since we just planted a whole heap of new trees