It’s the middle of the night, 2 a.m. and I’m on the terrace. The glitter of the full moon’s reflection on the surface of our lake mesmerizes me. There is no wind and even the birds seem to be holding their breath so there is almost no sound to be heard.
Everything is still.
Not so my mind. It is in turmoil.
It worries about global warming, especially the forest fires that we are trying to control in Europe with ancient DeHaviland Water Bombers well past their prime,
about half the children of the world not having enough food to eat,
about the deforestation of the Matto Grosso,
about the Ukrainian War,
about Trump lurching from trouble to trouble,
about Putin going mad,
about the seemingly never-ending COVID Pandemic that appears to have countless, endless, consecutive variants.
I worry about how the world is changing: how children communicate only via text message, how they don’t learn how to write because they don’t read books and have spellcheck on their computers, and, ABOVE ALL, how young people have easy access to cheap weapons – GUNS.
I foresee no future on this planet for homo sapiens.
Suddenly, a loon’s head emerges from the lunar glitter that has me so mesmerized. And the bird begins to talk.
“Pull yourself together old man,” his clarion call seems to say. “Don’t give up – ever. Homo Sapiens is by definition ‘sapient’. He will somehow think his way out of his present predicament.”