Apparently, today is Earth Day. I learned this, as I was trying to google how to integrate a new flock of chickens into an existing one. Above the search box a familiar blue planet rotated in the middle of an equally familiar corporate logo. Which sort of sums up my feelings about Earth Day. If we have to have a specific day to celebrate it, its not getting its due. In fact, it's probably being overlooked, over-worked, under-appreciated, treated poorly, and disregarded. Moreover, whatever it may be, it's likely something essential to our existence: mothers, women, the planet we live on...
Not that I'm against celebrating any of those things specifically. It's just that "Earth Day" strikes me as an utterly absurd concept. We live on Earth every day of our lives, and exist only because of it. We are part of the Earth, whether we like to think of it that way, or not.
Every goddamn day is Earth Day.
Every day is a good day to meditate on one's own impact on the planet.
Every day is great day to spend a little more time getting to know the little piece of it that surrounds us. Only in learning the birds that fly through on their way North, or South, in noticing the least showy, insects and figuring out what it is exactly that they do, in learning which plants outside our doors, are native to our bio-region, do we really claim our citizenship of this planet.
Every day magical, majestic things happen all over this Earth. Creatures are born out of nothing, imbued with a soul, a consciousness, instinct, dreams in their sleep, a mad drive to procreate, a mad drive to live...
They stumble into the world, while others stumble out. They consume energy, and release energy. They defy gravity, scale mountains, live in complete darkness, and in clouds of sulfur. They travel thousands of miles on their own steam, following their own internal compasses.
Some make complicated moral judgements, and art, and misuse their opposable thumbs, and quick wits.
Others grow slowly on top of their own ancestors, turning light into something the rest of us can breath. Some have evolved into complex parcels only a particular kind of bumble bee can open, hitching their genetic wagons to the wits of insects. Some kill, while others heal. And others still push through concrete, and take up residence in places rife with radiation.
Some thrive in our backyards, and others in the Mariana Trench.
We don't even know them all yet, or been able to map their location. We find and lose many of them daily.
They are so numerous, these living things, that their presence can only be accounted in bio mass (75 Billion tons). They are all made out of pieces of stars.
Every day is just another day on Planet Earth. If we're lucky.