WATER AND CLIMATE
Even though water makes up over 70% of Earth’s surface area, the total amount of freshwater found on our blue planet makes up less than 3%, only 0.3% of which is accessible.
Water is essential for life on Earth, yet this precious resource is scarce.
Water is a human right yet in the world, over one billion people live without access to clean water.
Water supports all terrestrial and aquatic lives, yet latest estimates from the UN Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization warn that more than half of the world’s marine species may stand on the brink of extinction by 2100.
Talking about water and climate means talking about inter-connectiness, social justice and intersectionality.
How could a local community project draw awareness to the importance of water for the future of all creatures and design opportunities for its appreciation and protection? Through stillness and story sharing, weaving unwanted textiles, building with reclaimed materials, shaping clay, cooking together, and creating a garden on water, we have connected with the cycles of nature. We have discussed, reflected upon and enquired about the importance of our finite resources, where they come from, what it takes for them to be produced, who benefits and who gets hurt, and what it means to be here on this pale blue dot, given our fragile yet incredible chance to be alive.
The Bestiary by Joanna Macy
Short-tailed albatross
Whooping crane
Gray wolf
Woodland caribou
Hawksbill sea turtle
Rhinoceros
The list of endangered species keeps growing longer every year. With too many names to hold in our mind, how do we honor the passing of life? What funerals or farewells are appropriate?
Reed warbler
Swallowtail butterfly
Bighorn sheep
Indian python
Howler monkey
Sperm whale
Blue whale
Dive me deep, brother whale, in this time we have left. Deep in our mother ocean where I once swam, gilled and finned. The salt from those early seas still runs in my tears. Tears aren’t enough anymore. Give me a song, a song for a sadness too vast for my heart, for a rage too wild for my throat.
Giant sable antelope
Wyoming toad
Grizzly bear
Brown bear
Bactrian camel
Nile crocodile
Chinese alligator
Ooze me, alligator, in the mud whence I came. Belly me slow in the rich primordial soup, cradle of our molecules. Let me wallow again, before we drain your swamp and pave it over.
Gray bat
Ocelot
Pocket mouse
Sockeye salmon
Tasmanian kangaroo
Hawaiian goose
Audouin’s seagull
Quick, lift off. Sweep me high over the coast and out, farther out. Don’t land here. Oilspills coat the beach, rocks, sea. I cannot spread my wings glued with tar. Fly me from what we have done, fly me far.
Golden parakeet
West African ostrich
Florida panther
Galapagos penguin
Imperial pheasant
Snow leopard
Mexican prairie dog
Hide me in a hedgerow, badger. Can’t you find one? Dig me a tunnel through leaf-mold and roots, under the trees that once defined our fields. My heart is bulldozed and plowed over. Burrow me a labyrinth deeper than longing.
Thick-billed parrot
San Francisco garter snake
Desert bandicoot
Molokai thrush
California condor
Lotus blue butterfly
Crawl me out of here, caterpillar. Spin me a cocoon. Wind me to sleep in a shroud of silk, where in patience my bones will dissolve. I’ll wait as long as all creation if only it will come again — and I take wing.
Atlantic ridley turtle
Coho salmon
Helmeted hornbill
Marine otter
Humpback whale
Steller sea-lion
Monk seal
Swim me out beyond the ice floes, mama. Where are you? Boots squeeze my ribs, clubs drum my fur, the white world goes black with the taste of my blood.
Gibbon
Sand gazelle
Swamp deer
Musk deer
Cheetah
Chinchilla
Asian elephant
African elephant
Sway me slowly through the jungle. There still must be jungle somewhere, my heart drips with green secrets. Hose me down by the waterhole; there is buckshot in my hide. Tell me old stories while you can remember.
Desert tortoise
Crested ibis
Hook-billed kite
Mountain zebra
Mexican bobcat
Andrew’s frigatebird
In the time when his world, like ours, was ending, Noah had a list of the animals, too. We picture him standing by the gangplank, calling their names, checking them off on his scroll. Now we also are checking them off.
Ivory-billed woodpecker
Indus river dolphin
West Indian manatee
Wood stork
We reenact Noah’s ancient drama, but in reverse, like a film running backwards, the animals exiting.
Ferret
Gorilla
Jaguar
Wolf
Your tracks are growing fainter. Wait. Wait. This is a hard time. Don’t leave us alone in a world we have wrecked.
Notes from the Garden
I wake to a bright crisp winter’s day. Finally … after weeks of storms ravaging the country.
As the year ends we are reminded of the magic and beauty that our gardens bring, as places to come together and celebrate, even in difficult times. This year it has been challenging not to be taken over by fear and despair, with extreme weather events being mirrored in different ways across the world, from floods to droughts; with the most recent political events; with wars destroying land and displacing entire populations; and with the constant increase in the cost of living creating ever more inequalities between those that have and those that do not.