“The Ethiops say that their gods are flat-nosed and black,
―
Xenophanes
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We tell ourselves that we were created in the image of god and the earth was created as our personal playground and if we choose to trash it as we strut around, that is our prerogative. One look at a beach in Hong Kong should dispel that piece of fiction. Maybe, Man the Despoiler of All Things.
A friend, an attack liberal, broached the subject of climate change, after I have finished a glass of wine and she thought my defenses were weakened. I agreed we had a problem and suggested that she give up her nine thousand sq. foot centrally heated and cooled home, her SUV, and vacation home. She replied that we should all start together. I will not take a holier than thou attitude; although my home is less that seventeen hundred sq. feet, I have no attention of giving up central heat and air, two automobiles, a tractor, riding lawn mower, chain saw, golf cart, and so on. We are all too selfish and nobody wants to hear more bad news.
Sometime in the early 1980's I drove a Fiat car, about the size of a golf cart, up the Dalmatian coast to the old walled city of Dubrovnik that juts out into the Adriatic, where I spent one night in a forgettable hotel. The next day I walked around the beach on the south side of the old town. Tanned tourist in bikinis and such were lounging at the edge of the water and a few were leisurely wading or swimming, but I was just looking and walking, no swimming for me that day. At the top of the beach where the beach ended and the city wall began I noticed a path at the base of the wall that lead around away from the beach and around the city wall, so I continued my solitary stroll on the narrow path. Soon I had a clear view of the water beneath the path and the wall above me. Then I notice schools of fish in the water. The fish were feeding on the sewage that was empting into the water. On closer inspection, it was raw sewage. Then I looked up at all the unsuspecting tourist being exposed to hepatitis a, b, c, d and probably the entire alphabet of such. What to do? I could return to be beach and attempt to warn the swimmers. But in what language? Were they Croats, Serbs, Russians? How do you say 'raw sewage' in Croat? Also, I was in semi-hostile territory, the wall had not come down in Berlin, Yugoslavia was part of the Soviet Union. Moreover, I was sure the local authorities would not be happy about me disturbing business. I kept my mouth closed and soon drove the golf cart Fiat on to Split the next tourist venue.
As for reducing world population, I don't expect the Catholic church to suddenly begin handing out condoms in St Peters, nor will the governments of India, China, or the US begin spraying urban centers with birth control mixtures from helicopters. It ain't gonna happen. My guess is we will all end up sitting on beaches like the one above and wondering why the government doesn't do something*. Probably, there will be a special few left to huddle in Monaco or other such enclaves glancing nervously over the barbwire covered walls.
We have no way of knowing for sure if some higher power placed humans on Mother Earth or if in a blind process of chance and evolution humans emerged as the temporary winners on Earth. So, "What are people for?" The only conceivable path for us to take is one that insures the health and well being of this wonderful blue planet; home not just for us but to all kinds of wonderful creatures. My duck for one.
Daffy
The duck is a runaway. Our neighbor on the farm to our west had a enormous flock of ducks, wild turkeys, guineas, and geese; eventually all taken by varmints, except for two geese and one mallard drake. We began our own flock of domestic ducks and wild ducks about two decades ago with two dozen ducklings purchased from Cackle Hatchery in Lebanon, Missouri. The chicks were kept in the smoke house at night and ran about in a fenced yard during the day. The neighbor's duck and geese got wind of ducklings nearby and begin spending most of their time near the ducklings. Once a ducking got wedged in the wire fence and when my wife came to the rescue, the geese attacked. She managed to free the duckling, but both her arms were covered with black and blue bruises for weeks to come. On another occasion a red fox approached the pen during the day and the geese also attacked the fox. I would not say the geese won, but the fox did retreat, and never returned.
Watching the young mallards learn to fly and land in the big pond behind the house was amusing. At first they descend at the far edge of the pond and rolled head over tea-kettle onto grass. Daffy would quack instructions, but without much effect, as far as I could tell. The white ducks are unable to fly more than a few feet, so they mostly waddled down to the pond. The morning parade of ducks and geese from smoke house to pond was a spectacle. A spectacle ending much too soon. As soon as the flock was old enough to leave the smoke house, the coyotes, bob cats, coons, and whatever began to take a toll. After a few years, only the white ducks remained. Daffy joined the white ducks and give up flying; he would just waddle along like the others. Finally, the white ducks began to warm themselves by sleeping in the highway in front of the house. Horn honks, brakes screech, and a cloud of white feathers. Within a few more months, and only the two geese and Daffy survived and the war with the geese began.
The geese began spending days around the carport and making one ugly mess after another. I tried running them back to the pond with an air pistol, but their feathers acted as shields. Next, I purchased a sling shot, that proved to be inaccurate. Finally, nature solved the problem.
Several lakes nearby are homes to alligators, some quite large, and when breeding season arrives the older bulls run their younger competitors away. The young dudes follow creeks and enter ponds where they dine on turtles, fish, frogs, and in my largest pond, geese. One day I drove the golf cart to the pond and spotted a ten foot alligator slowly swimming with the remains of the last goose in his mouth. Daffy is now the last feathered creature remaining.
For a while he seemed depressed and would not come up to the barn to be fed. But that winter after the alligator episode, he was joined on the pond by migrating mallards. Once, I even saw him paddling about with a hen mallard, but alas, nothing came of it. She flew on south and Daffy remained place bound. Perhaps, he had no concept of migration. Eventually, he adapted to being the sole survivor and began hanging out in the car port or flying in to be fed.
During molting beauty leaves him, but in the spring when he dons color he is magnificent. The brown breast takes on a reddish hue, the blue epaulets set off by two white lines appear, the green head ends with a white ring, and his tail feathers curl setting off his costume with panache. Not only is Daffy handsome, he also has manners. He usually follows along quacking behind me when I walk to the barn where the feed is stored, then when I place a hand full of grain on the ground he always looks up at me and quacks a thank you before eating. Needless to say, we are very fond of the mallard.
If our hubris, greed, shortsightedness, and all our other destructive habits destroys the planet, then I can only think we would get what we deserve. But how awful that we take all the other innocent wonderful creatures with us. What are people far? John, the answer is to look after the planet and all the wonderful creatures on it. Now, get a hold of yourself and sit up straight in your chair.
* No sooner had I written that line than I spotted a Pew Research survey announcing: "Many Americans say the government is doing too little to protect key aspects of the environment and to reduce the effects of climate change. And a majority of Americans say climate change affects their local community, including two-thirds of those living near the coast."