Posts Tagged ‘environment’
Today, in a dream,
I saw a thing so far
denied to me.
That between my neighbor’s
and my home, there
would only be the shadow
and the dark at night,
and after sunrise
only questions about what might
bring us together. Now my eyes
have seen the dusky pathway
through the green—misty, wide, and lit
by lantern-yellow beams
in the friendly trees—I miss it.
Then, woods lie open: no fence
or line is needed, to remind
where my neighbor’s premise ends,
or to protect what’s mine.
Here’s a taste of some of the things we’re hearing from God about what we’re doing here.
These are images created by our youngest of a gazebo, which is a very unique kind of building … not a home, not church, not work, not a Starbucks. An in-between place. What’s it for? What happens there? Here’s one answer.
The chair in the picture below, inside of the Gazebo, is for anyone to sit in “whenever you need to. When you sit in this chair, it’s like you’re right in God.” Sounds nice.
This next picture of a table and chairs is all about “sitting and relaxing” according to the artist. Reminds me of something the Old Prophet Isaiah has said, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
Check out that roof. That’ll be good in a storm.
Stay tuned …
I just got my favorite bike back. It hasn’t been gone or anything. But it has, for a year or so, had a motor mounted to it … which is another story, except to say that the motor was an awesome chinese two-stroke disaster that was anything but green. The motor is destined for another junker frame I saved from the dump, and this bike, my Two Wheeler, has been restored to it’s pure and simple, single-speed (=slow) glory.
Today I was thinking about how environmentally perfect my bike is, and how I’ve often bragged about it over the years, feeling superior to Prius drivers, etc, etc. But I realized today, as I was pedaling around town, enjoying my resurrected roller, that I don’t ride bikes because they are green. At least, that was never a reason for me to start, nor was it why I fell in love with bikes. I ride bikes because bike riding is fun. Sure, I love that my fuel is yummy food, not stinky petroleum. I love that I don’t create greenhouse gasses and I love that I don’t make noise and air pollution. But I really just love riding bikes: that’s mainly why I started, and that’s mainly why I don’t give it up.
I love the freedom of it. I love the wind, the lack of traffic, the simplicity of the machine. I love that I can build and fix bikes with my kids. I love that I am not limited to streets, but can ride in a field, along a trail, and even the wrong way on a one-way street (carefully). I love weaving gently back and forth when the sun is shining and I’m wearing flip-flops and just rolling along without really pedaling at all. Riding is freedom to me. But more to the point, riding bikes makes me feel like a child.
I can admit that I don’t ride my bike because it’s green. I’m so glad that it is, really, but that’s not why I love it.
As I was having this moment of honest self-evaluation, I wondered how many other childlike, innocent pleasures there are that are naturally good for the environment? To put the question another way, when do we become old enough that our tools and toys become as much a danger to our environment as they are a solution to our problems?