Fleeting Days of Spring

3 Jun

There are only (however many) days left of spring, and I can hear the birds singing outside our bedroom window.

I love spring.  Love it, love it, love it.

Roses, love them too!

This year though something about spring is a bit of a downer.  I’m beyond sad about the oil “spill.”  One would suppose that it will be resolved eventually (ee-ven-twush-ali, Fawlty Towers anyone?).  But already the damage is beyond repair.  No, I’m no expert or rocket scientist, but I’ve washed a lot of dishes.  And one thing I’ve learned, in my expert dishwashing years, is that a little bit of oil goes a long, looonnngggg, way.  One pot saturated with oil can make for a tough cleaning job.  Plus, oil and water don’t mix.  Am I overstating the obvious?  Why aren’t we angrier?  There’s still oil on the shores of Alaska from the Exxon fiasco 20+ years ago.

It’s been 44 days, and counting, and it’s still not “capped” – I guess we’ll have to wait for them to plug the thing before we can assess the long term damage, but “millions” of gallons of oil can’t be anything but bad?  Agreed?

And poor, New Orleans.  How will they recover?  How will any of the many water-based businesses in the Gulf recover?

Reuters has a timeline 0f the whole sordid affair, here.

I’ll get off my environmental soap box, for now.  It’s in my blood, I grew up out west.  I’m not an “environmentalist” by any stretch of the imagination, but I care about the environment and can’t imagine why anyone else wouldn’t.  No matter what your stripes, no matter what your worries or cares, it’s the environment or nothing.  Ya know?  If we don’t have a sound world to live and breathe and eat in, everything else is a moot point.

I worry that my children’s generation will look to us 20 years from now and say – WTF?!

And I wouldn’t blame them one bit.


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