|Barrier Reef of Belize|
While working with the landscape crew in the garden today, I could not help reflecting on the ironies of the times. Cynics, critics, skeptics, and others who deny the effects of global warning would need to simply venture from the cooled comfort of their homes and offices, and into the 102F plus temperature presently experienced by our region in order to experience the precursor of the inevitable. It is alarming when native grasses, rose-of-sharon shrubs, and catmint start to wilt under the stressors of extreme heat and the lack of rain. Water can be quite costly, and in some states and counties ration quotas and schedules are in effect; it seems almost inhuman to run the sprinkler on a suburban lawn in the pursuit of some ideal of lawn perfection, knowing that the general populace of many African, Asian, and Middle Eastern countries faces dehydration and starvation. A very cruel death as the body attempts to eat itself in order to survive. Sadly, lawn sprinklers at many homes still pop up on schedule, golf courses continue to proliferate in the wealthier parts of some states, and Las Vegas and Palm Springs still appear mirage-like in their parched surroundings. It is predicted that within our lifetime, water will become the most essential and valued natural resource (read commodity).
This week’s peepshow devoted to unconventional gardens ends today; day 5 features the underwater garden, or coral reef. To my eyes, neither plant nor animal while simultaneously of both categories of nature, the coral reef is comprised of the skeletal and living structures of the coral polyps, and provide within its protective depths and shallows a wonderful habit for countless fish, crustaceans, assorted sea life, and vegetation as yet unknown. Hypnotic, awe-inspiring, and languidly wondrous, the marvels of this liquid world continue to thrill visitors to this ecological paradise. The Great Barrier Reef of Belize looms large in my thoughts, and is my idealized version of utopia; perhaps eclipsed only by the dream of cool morning rain falling softly on endless plains, across sharp ranges of hills and mountains, as well as watering the parched deserts of the world. Better rain than tears, yes?
You can make a difference in this world-our only—by making a small contribution to thewaterproject.org. Revive someone’s life, drop by drop.
PS: Heading down to the Chincoteague and Assateugue beaches where the thought of swimming (au natural) will invigorate me on tonight’s drive. Hope that you enjoy Augusts’ schedule of visual treats comprised of essays by guest writers and vintage remixes.