reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: environmental responsibility


by 1 Comment

the colors of climate change. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it was fuchsia the other morning.

dogga wakes us up quite early these days, so we generally see the sun rise out the east windows of our bedroom as we sip coffee. the other day it was fuchsia.

on the way out of the marina south of us a bit we drove west into the setting sun. the sky was copper and the sun was ringed with vermillion, countless other oranges on the spectrum striated in. it was like sherbet or hubbabubba, a rainbow-infused sky. each night and morning now it’s like fanta orange soda has come alive. it is quite the show.

but it shouldn’t be this way. it represents so much destruction by wildfire in our northern neighbor and it presents so much danger for anyone breathing this smoke-laden air.

we are watching the ever-growing effects of climate change – fires that are starting earlier, extending longer, more challenging, destroying millions of acres…this is “an objective truth“…higher temperatures, drier conditions are ripe for lightning strikes or human intention or error. the images of fires ravaging our own country are terrifying and the effects on wildlife and people are devastating.

so it is vivid. both the color spectrum of this threat and the threat itself.

it is distressing beyond belief and i agree with greta thunberg’s plea to mitigate this crisis: “panic, feel fear, and act!” i agree with leonardo dicaprio: “i believe humankind has looked at climate change … as if it were a fiction, happening to someone else’s planet, as if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away. climate change is not hysteria – it’s a fact.”

in our little way we try to do our part. we don’t overbuy. we shop to a list and a menu and use it all. we purchase vintage often, rather than newly-produced products. we recycle and reuse and repurpose as is possible. we are currently in the over-a-thousand-dollar mark – and still rising – of ensuring that littlebabyscion is emission-safe. we pay attention to our energy consumption and to the footprint we are leaving behind.

i would be perfectly happy with the “normal” sunrise, the “normal” sunset. the colors of those are exquisite and hard to wrap words around, the air of those easier to breathe, the colors of the wind less caustic. certainly less urgent, less critical, less of a tipping-tipping point.

the objective truths are all around us. we need pay heed.

“each and every one of us can make changes in the way we live our lives and become part of the solution [to climate change]. “ (al gore)

“the greatest danger to our future is apathy.” (jane goodall)

“the environmental protection agency (EPA) said this week it would revoke its own ability to fight climate change. it’s the latest move in an extraordinary pivot away from science-based protections.” (inside the ‘radical transformation’ of america’s environmental role – david gelles & maxine joselow – the new york times – august 3, 2025)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly impacts you.


by Leave a comment

and here we are. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

and here we are, short-term residents of planet earth, inhabiting relatively tiny spaces of dirt for relatively tiny spaces of time. it seems absolutely paramount to be considerate of this most-amazing place – to nurture it, protect it, sustain it – while we are here before we move on to whatever other dimension to which we pass.

it was in the most basic of childhood lessons i learned to clean up after myself. i learned not to be wasteful or disrespectful to the environment. i learned to be mindful of good practices of ecology, of thrifty reuse, of repurposing, recycling, of proper disposal. my sweet momma always taught me the importance of leaving a place better than i found it, a lesson of stewardship with a quote commonly attributed to robert baden-powell (of mount baden-powell fame), the founder of the scouting movement.

and here we are. it would seem to be our deigned responsibility to be adamantly, vociferously, actively committed to leaving this home place of ours – this community, this state, this nation, this earth – better than we found it.

we need wrap our time here in conscience, in honesty, in compassionate dedication to virtue, to morality, to the upholding of equality and the rights of people to live free of prejudice and abuse, to truth, to accountability.

we need commit to the acknowledgement of empirical evidence of human-based climate change, to intelligent, scientific efforts of atmospheric correction, to alternative ways of meeting present needs without compromise of the future, to preservation and sustainability, to a rabid promise for a clean earth.

it would seem we must leave behind us all the best we can – a place of peace and respect for all, a place that will meet the needs of, nurture and not harm our descendants – physically, psychologically, spiritually. we must safeguard a place that will selflessly forward goodness for all mother earth and its creatures, for all humanity, for all time.

to place feet on the ground, to dig in the dirt, to gaze at the sky, to breathe the air, to drink the water – it is all interconnected. we all share in its enduring legacy.

“leave it better than you found it.”

please.

anything less is shameful.

and here we are.

*****

(in significantly relevant-to-the-moment news, it is more than unfortunate – quite stunningly devastating – that it is apparent – with the advent of tens of thousands of sexual abuse cases against the boy scouts of america – that actual boy scouts have not been left better than thousands of scouting leaders found them. indeed, baden-powell would likely be horrified at this tragic twist in the organization he created, necessitating a $2.46 billion settlement for sexual abuse victims left worse than before their time in the boy scouts. and here we are.)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly touches or impacts you.


by Leave a comment

saved from away. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

almost every time we mosey around an antique shoppe – likely every time – i find myself musing about how no one should buy anything new. at all. ever. we should all just go peruse antique shoppes, flea markets, thrift stores, for – in those places just brimming over with possibility – it is probable that we would find all we need. and more.

we really do love a good antique boutique filled with vintage treasures just waiting to be re-homed.

because i agree with annie leonard (greenpeace), “there is no such thing as ‘away’. when we throw anything away it must go somewhere,” we have not yet disposed of our (decades and decades) old range. we have, instead, cherished it and putzed with it when it was struggling. but it is not in a landfill somewhere and, for that and for its long, long lifeline, i am grateful.

we were on the quest for a single ladder – to add to our deck with a purple sweet potato vine. we wanted a bit of interest over in the corner and found a stack of single ladders outside our favorite antique shoppe. but in the steps between where we parked big red and the ladder stack, there was this little garden table. d instantly stopped and drew it to my attention.

because our backyard is – indeed – our sanctuary, a small peeling paint white garden table could be the perfect addition – over there, on the deck, next to the railing that defines the potting stand garden.

$20.

but there is a sale. 20-40% off.

we buy our chosen ladder (who knew there were so many different widths?) and bring it out to the truck, ready to leave.

but that garden table.

it called us as we walked by. the second time.

so we went back to look at it, to wonder at its story, at where it had been, at its character as evidenced by its patina.

we snapped a photo and went inside – just to ask.

because we have been there many, many times, the gal at the checkout knows us. she asked me what I wanted to pay (though we weren’t yet sure we wanted to purchase it.) i replied $10 and her quick answer was, “sold!” i couldn’t help but wonder what a small garden table with as much joie de vivre would cost in a retail shop, a garden store, a catalog.

we happily loaded up this small sweet table and readily re-homed it on that spot on the deck, placing a soft green petite licorice plant on top.

every day – several times a day – we step outside and are deeply sated by this place of sanctuary. we wander to each plant, each herb, each grass, our aspen tree, and marvel at the growth in this hot-humid-greenhouse-type summer. we express, once again, gratitude for this space and its stuff.

and we plan our next trip – just to stroll about, to tell stories as we see items with which we had grown up, to goof about purchasing items completely out of our taste or – sometimes – completely out of taste at all. it is always an adventure.

to borrow from home goods advertising, we go finding. only our finds are the things people no longer want and wish to sell, the items that may have ended up disposed of, tossed out. our finds are filled with the magic of repurpose. they have stories we don’t know and can only imagine. they have new stories we have created for them. in turn, they create a place of tranquility and easy serenity.

and in some small way, we have saved the earth – even just a little – by saving one more thing from ‘away’.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work touches you.


by 1 Comment

quintessential. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

back in the day we could drive out east a bit and purchase long island sweet corn at any number of farmstands along the side of the road. it was a staple in summertime, showing up at every picnic or barbecue.

when i about 16, i flew out to see my brother and his family in central illinois. nothing compared to the view below from the air – cornfields as far as the eye could see. rich, green, thriving fields of field corn.

i return to the moment in that airplane so long ago, looking down on middle america, eyes wide-open, gobsmacked at how pristine those fields looked from the sky. because it is just as stunning each time in the air – even now, many decades later – this atlantic-pacific-gulf-of-mexico-canada crayon-outlined country of america.

and now, we drive across our state on the backroads, innumerable cornfields along the way. highway 81/W/11 coursing its way across wisconsin, on illinois highway 39, along route 151 across iowa, to the letter-named backroads of missouri. any time in the heartland will place you in generous fields of corn-green. it is the corn belt, after all. it is quintessential midwest.

it also seems quintessential that our country – this bright, innovative storehouse of science and data and brilliant minds – would be aggressively concerning itself with climate change – with scientific research and empirical evidence to avoid any further harm to this planet, to protect the fragility and balance of all-things-ecological, to further generative ideas in order to avoid continued or amped-up destruction of this-place-we-call-home, to embrace sustainable and responsible methods of lessening the very real threats of the fallout of rapidly changing climate and intentional negligence by humans.

it would seem pragmatic that the solar farms deep into the fields on the side of the county roads, the wind farms lining the highways also be considered quintessentially american, for these to be so prevalent that their energy production might be a fundamental expression of this country’s fierce protection of the environment.

we all learned early on the responsibility we had on our environment. keep it clean – the bottom line. and though i have in the past stopped people who have thrown trash out of their vehicle window or while walking on a sidewalk or a path, it is not likely that i would do that in every case anymore as i weigh individual circumstances in today’s much more violent world. but i cringe each time i see any such dereliction. “we each have impact,” i think every single time.

from the air or maybe even rushing by on the highway, one can’t see – doesn’t notice – the kwik-trip cups or mcdonalds bags, the plastic grocery bags and water bottles, the emptied ashtrays, the tires in the swale or the couch dumped in the pocket of brush on the side of the road. even walking the streets of small towns speckling this nation reveals a disheartening lack of concern about the nature of nature.

the feeling of responsibility needs to start at the top, for we “little people” can only do so much to protect this environment. our hands are not in the deep pockets of big money. they are – instead – clutching the water bottle or the fast food bag, waiting to dispose of them appropriately, carefully repurposing, recycling, composting, minimizing our waste, trying to make a difference.

never would i have thought that it would be necessary to have statements issued by the international court of justice – the principal judicial arm of the united nations – that would acutely ‘remind’ this country of its accountability in this crisis. never would i have thought that this country – this country – would be ignoring such passionate pleas for holding this planet in protected space. never would i have thought that these words “climate crisis is an existential problem of planetary proportions that imperils all forms of life and the very health of our planet” would be in such acute danger of being sloughed off.

the international court of justice stated that a “clean, healthy and sustainable environment” is a human right.

taking any route across this beautiful sea-to-shining-sea – flying above it or on its myriad of roads or track – eyes open – provides a profound reminder of what we should not be willing to sacrifice.

*****

“what you do will live beyond your lifetime.” (you make a difference © 2002 – kerri sherwood)

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly impacts you.


by Leave a comment

if i was the rain. [two artists tuesday]

it was torrential. for hours. we didn’t know it, but we weren’t the only ones having issues. all over our town, there was flooding. streets, houses, basements, the water was incessant and drainage wasn’t keeping up.

it’s not like we don’t need rain. we do. but the intense downpours aren’t helpful. residents ended up without power, with too much water and without water (ironically).

this is a time of intensity. it seems that every weather system, every environmental concern, brings an amped-up version of itself. it’s not just a little windy. it’s a derecho. it’s not just a bit dry. it’s on fire. it’s not just a soft rain. it’s a deluge. it’s not just a storm. it’s historic. it’s not just endangered. it’s extinction.

and we’re not the only ones.

right after we chose this image for our blogposts, i started humming lowen and navarro’s “if i was the rain“, an utterly debilitatingly beautiful song.

and so i think about how it would be – to be the rain.

“if i was the rain… i’d fall between the fireflies; i’d never dampen any light.”

yes. how i’d be careful not to dim the brilliance of others.

“i’d strike a chord within each heart, wherever they were torn apart. and if that helped them heal themselves, maybe we’d find out where forgiveness starts.”

yes. how i’d be aware of washing away old hurts, bringing a flowing river to all.

“if i was the rain, i’d choose forever to remain. i’d add a sparkle to the night and marvel at the morning bright.”

yes. how ever-present, a single drop of rain. ever-mindful of vast goodness, of perspective, of eternal gratitude.

“if i was the rain i’d bless each blossom to unfold and i’d turn each one of them to gold.”

yes. how to feed every last thing with the best nourishment, water to grow, dreams to flourish. nurturing. giving to. not taking from.

“if i was the rain. if i was the rain.”

but i’m not. and there are changes happening. and the weather is intensifying. and we – as humans on this good earth – have choices to make.

the things we will decide will affect the rain. and the rain will affect us.

and we’re not the only ones.

“when we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.” (john muir)

and then, eric lowen performed it one last time, “if i was the rain, if i was the rain.”

and i can’t help but wonder.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

like. share. subscribe. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo


by 1 Comment

knock wood. [merely-a-thought monday]

we have been – knock wood – quite lucky lately – knock wood – during a period of time that tornado watches have proliferated weather apps across the country, including here. the words “tornado watch” make me uneasy. ok, truth be told, i find them slightly terrifying. i am not one to take these watches and warnings lightly. i plan ahead…important papers, phone and laptop cords, keys, wallets, purse, dogga leash…all in a safe place. and then i listen – intently – to the wind.

i didn’t use to have this kind of reaction to storms, but since the flat-line-windstorm of 2011, i have turned into a wuss. yes, wuss. period. somewhere around 750-800 trees were felled in that storm in our neighborhood, pulling roots from the ground, heaving sidewalks, falling wherever they fell. all in a matter of minutes. it was scary. and yet, i know it was not the destruction that a tornado can leave behind.

we have read each article about the tornadoes across the country, our hearts sinking for the loss of life and home and property. the weather is more extreme than i ever remember it. and it is not getting better. climate change is here – not a amorphous thing of the future. and, with the ocean temperatures rising, i suspect that this will not ease up. these storms are here to stay.

and so i wonder the best things we can do to pay attention to this good earth, the best practices, things to avoid. we are all in this together – despite the warring of peoples on big fronts and little. there will be nothing to celebrate – or fight over – should we ignore these signs. we’ve been relatively lucky as a world so far – knock wood.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY


by 1 Comment

the hubbabubba fairy. [two artists tuesday]

it looks like the hubbabubba fairy flew through, magic wand in hand, touching stumps and shredded trees everywhere. it is striking to see and not just a little disturbing. there is blue-fairy-dust-smattering all over the woods. trees have been felled, underbrush torn up, everything ground into rough-hewn mulch. one shade of blue and many shades of brown.

only it’s not magic dust and no hubbabubba-bubble-gum or jolly-rancher-blue-raspberry fairy has been there. instead, it’s an herbicide and part of treatment for the invasive species eradication project on our trail. it’s completely and understandably important, but it sure doesn’t look very nice. right now, it looks a tad bit decimated, but good strong organic matter remains and will grow and rejuvenate, despite the eradication of so many toxic invasives.

we need be cautious. often the invasive stands in the forest, all tall and righteous, and we are convinced that they are a beautiful partner in the woods community. or the invasive is short and squat, pudgy bushes that look lush and, again, we are convinced they are contributing members of this symbiotic woods. careful discernment is necessary, for we can be easily fooled, particularly by those invasives that look mighty or seem healthy. and these mistaken identities can – as we have learned – lead to the detriment of the very lovely and thriving woods.

that’s the thing about invasive species, i guess. you don’t recognize them as invasive. you trust – as you look around – that they are supposed to be there – for the good of the woods or the preserve or the wetland or the lake. here, in this woods, they appear to be a part of it – ever-present, growing and greening up in the spring. according to the national park service, “invasive species—nonnative organisms that cause harm to the environment, economy, or human health—have serious impacts on native ecosystems. they disrupt ecological processes, threaten ecosystem integrity, degrade cultural resources…”. they are not what they appear.

i suppose there are institutions like that as well. invasives choking out the real life, the real growth, the organic nature of the organization – all bent on preserving their own agendas, maintaining control, practicing a generalist survival strategy honed through the years. bobcats and coyotes are generalists and, i must say, i know a few.

the national wildlife federation states, “detecting new invaders quickly, and responding rapidly to eliminate them, is essential to limiting impacts and costs when prevention fails.” “many invasive species thrive because they outcompete native species for food.” i suppose it would be wise to be wary of being outcompeted.

“many invasive species destroy habitat” and “some invasive species do great harm to the economy,” national geographic warns and then adds, “invasive species are almost always spread by human activity.”

“you can treat and dispose of invasive non-native plants by: spraying with chemicals, pulling or digging out live, dead or dying plants, cutting back plants to prevent the seeds dispersing.” (gov.uk)

yes. these are some of the efforts we are seeing in our own treasured woods: the removal of the toxic longstandings – masked as steadfasts participating in the mission of the forest – for the true benefit of that forest and wildlife community.

“once invasive species become established and spread, it can be extraordinarily difficult and costly to control or eradicate them.” (national wildlife federation)

in that light and with great intention, in one dedication to such efforts, “the national wildlife federation leads the charge to prevent invasive carp from entering and decimating the great lakes.” the national park service explains, “invasive carp cause serious damage to the native fish populations in the lakes and rivers that they infest because they out-compete other fish.” http://www.invasivecarp.us asks fishermen who catch a carp to “immediately contact the appropriate agency personnel for the state you are in.” we are urged to be ever mindful, to be transparent about what we see, about that which is destructive.

yes. watch out for those carp and all the other invasives. the hubbabubba fairy has left the building.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY


by 1 Comment

a mixed bag. [d.r. thursday]

$6.99. for ten. that’s not cheap. and i have often wondered why they are not included as a perk for city taxes or the utilities and waste pickup. i always – really always – print out the coupon for $2.00 off and have them in my purse every fall. but even then, $4.99 is still not inexpensive.

the other day we stood in the grocery store in front of the biobag display and had a few terse words. i didn’t have any printed coupons in my purse and he-who-shall-remain-nameless-in-this-story wanted to buy a couple boxes. everything inside me railed against buying them without the coupons. i even said that i would go back – after i downloaded the coupon page and then went to the officemax to print them (since our printer was on the fritz). he said my time was worth more than that. i wondered – again – why, if kenosha is providing a link for the coupons on their city site for anyone and everyone, the stores don’t just discount them at point of purchase. it seems like a ridiculous exercise in wasted paper, a little bit of irony – especially when the reason to purchase them is to be environmentally mindful. seems a little plastic if you ask me. to let you off the waiting-with-bated-breath hook, we bought the biobags – two boxes – and i tried to forget that we paid full price.

while i recognize the absolute need for biobags – and the ability for them to disintegrate – i wonder how all people can afford them. they simply cannot purchase boxes and boxes of biodegradable biobags in lieu of food or in lieu of paying the mortgage or rent or gas for the car to get to their job or the WE energies bill. there has to be a way for everyone to have access without breaking the bank. i can tell you that there were many times we stood in the store and had to think about whether or not to purchase them. and now, we are back there…thinking again about the cost.

the trees around us haven’t lost all their leaves yet. we will finish out the boxes of bags we have and then, i suspect, we will use those big black plastic bags and take them to the compost site out by the airport and dump the contents into huge piles. we can reuse the black bags for the next runs and the next runs. as we fall into winter we will definitely mulch some on the yard as well and rake some into the gardens for critters to take refuge and find warmth.

leaf-raking time is a funny time. it brings back a zillion memories of my poppo out front raking leaves and leaf-raking parties with hot cocoa and cookies (we had a zillion trees at my growing-up house) and, later down the road in a different time, a different state, my kiddos loving jumping in the leaves and despising raking. we love to swoosh our feet through the leaves as we walk and the scent of fallen autumn leaves is divine. we drive around the ‘hood, astounded at the sheer number of bags at the curb and try to remember how many weeks the city will pick them up. we can smell leaves burning as we drive to our favorite trail and we watch as people use those big blower devices to blow leaves into the street, passing on leaf-responsibility and encouraging their leaves to blow into their neighbors’ yards.

leaf mulchers. leaf blowers. leaf burns. leaf piles. leaf bins. leaf parties. leaf them alone.

it’s a mixed bag. yes. pun intended.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY


by 1 Comment

all we really want. [flawed wednesday]

it’s disconcerting to round the corner to your street and see five fire trucks parked there, lights on, hoses at the ready. more fire trucks continued to arrive, police cars blocking the entrance to the road at both ends. the instant we got out of the car in the driveway it was obvious. there had been a gas line puncture; natural gas permeated the air, heavy in the warm humidity. the firefighters directed us residents into our homes, our tendency, otherwise, to stand on driveways and discuss the happenings. it took a while, but the gas company came, a worker climbed into the hole (i would assume that person receives hazard pay) and, much like the story of the boy and the dike, somehow plugged up the puncture. after some time, the fire trucks left one by one and a semblance of order returned to the neighborhood, though no one was anxious to light a bonfire or a grill or cause any sparks for a while.

the news of more wildfires – again – still – in california is overwhelming to read. with temperatures hovering at one hundred degrees and drought a repeating theme, i cannot imagine the insurmountable task of the firefighters, the constant worry about loss of lives and homes and wildlife.

and then, on the other end of the wet-dry spectrum, the floods in kentucky. worried about the owner of the tiny house we stayed at south of lexington, i texted her. she and her whole family are from the hollers of kentucky, growing up near rivers that are now flooded. i didn’t hear back, but checked facebook and found that her church was underwater and she had – already at that time – devastatingly lost two neighbors.

both extremes. catastrophic.

it seems that these events never end. one morphs into the next into the next. our fragile planet suffers while politicians debate inane issues and, from all evidence, seemingly seek to stoke their own financial objectives. meanwhile, in every corner of the globe there is mighty confirmation that this good earth is in crisis. this puts each of us in crisis, our children, our children’s children, the children of our children’s children. and yet, politicians, in every corner of the globe, sneer and attend to their own shortsighted power grabs. wow.

it would be hard to choose to be a firefighter. it would be hard to work for the red cross, crisscrossing this country in an attempt to attend to the extreme needs of its populace. it would be hard to be a climate scientist, likely frustrated out of their gourds watching and listening to the pushback of idiocy.

and there are more it-would-be-hards. it would be hard to be a teacher or a school principal, as the new 2022-2023 school year rapidly approaches and the worry about potential school shootings revives after summer break. it would be hard to be the manager of a grocery store, the managing director of a concert venue, the owner of a dance club, the grand marshal of an idyllic holiday parade, the owner of a movie theater, the director of a medical facility, the leaders of a religious institution….

we-the-people face down emergency after emergency. i would think that all we really want – now’days – is to think that our safety – whether from climate crisis or gun violence or extreme aggression or marginalization – would be foremost. all we really want is to avoid catastrophe. all we really want is to believe that the leaders of our communities, our states, our country have our best interests – and not their pocketbooks or personal agenda – at heart. heart. yes.

all we really want is to not pull down our own street-that-we-live-on – wherever it is – and see a multitude of fire trucks and a catastrophe – from anything within human power to prevent – that is insurmountable.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY


by Leave a comment

the other 89%. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

david said, “really, it’s probably the 5% rule. there are about 5% of people who are not good people.” i answered, “eh. i think it’s more like 10%.”

glancing to the side of the road leading out of the trail i watched a guy in the parking lot duck into his shiny pick-up truck. he pulled out a floor mat as i stared and dumped its accumulated dirt and wrappers and garbage on the ground. “make that 11%,” i grumbled.

though i no longer would do this – i have, in the past, pulled up next to someone or walked up to someone, depending on whether on a road or on a walk – to tell them – in an innocent and informative voice – that they “dropped something.” i usually add i’m not sure if they need it but it’s just “back a ways” if they do. sadly, this did not usually culminate in their retrieval of their garbage, but there was something about letting them know it did not go unnoticed that was helpful. probably more helpful would be if i just followed and picked up the garbage that others are dropping.

“earth is neat,” says the wrapper of the justin’s dark chocolate cashew butter cups. to jaunt through the justins.com website is to read the story of a guy with a passion for peanut butter take it all to the next level. his company is self-built and completely and utterly responsible to people, food and the planet we live on. it makes me want to eat more nut butters, make his 4-ingredient-peanut-butter-banana-oatmeal-cookie recipe, support his obviously-boulder-colorado-beginning efforts. bravo, justin.

the trail on saturday was warm. the first day in months. even the vests we wore were too much, so we peeled them off and relished hiking jacketless, even for a day. i suppose that we will take a couple pairs of gloves and a few garbage bags and go back one day without hiking in mind. it might do our hearts good to pick up the stuff that the 11% has left behind.

because earth IS neat. and it takes all of us to keep it that way.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY