It didn't take long. My fastidious neighbors who weed whacked the woods, tonsured their shrubs into static green spheres, had an enduring love affair with Round Up and regularly patrolled their clipped lawn picking up every stray twig that had the temerity to fall on their pristine domain- have only been gone a few short months.
Yet, when I walked past their house this morning, I noticed that Mother Nature is quickly reclaiming what belongs to her.
Twigs, sticks and leaves litter their grass. The ivy they so detested and obsessed over is now scrambling up the trees as if to make up for lost time. Weeds are poking out of the cracks in the hard shell of their driveway and the curb next to their house is already populated with wild violets, plantain, dandelions, one tiny tree, several tufts of pale, weedy looking grass and even a Lenten Rose.
As I pause to observe (and admire) how much Nature has accomplished in so little time, I'm reminded of how brief our earthly tenure is. Proprietary though we may feel, ownership is an illusion. None of us own anything; we merely borrow from Mother Nature for a little while.
And how long is our 'little while'? Not long at all. On average in the U.S. it's about 76 years for men and 81 years for women.
Hmmmm. That gives me something to ponder: I have about 18 years left.
As I continue walking, I ponder some more. Other than my own little individual life, what about the human species as a whole? Will humans, like dinosaurs, dodo birds and saber tooth tigers, become extinct and disappear? I wonder what the earth will be like without us.
I suspect Mother Nature will probably blow all of us off with a sigh of relief, inexorably invading, cracking, crumbling and toppling our concrete and steel hard scapes, returning our sterile cities to riotous, unrestrained, green abundance, in the same rapid, easy fashion as those hardy little weeds have cropped up in the drive way of the empty house on my street.
Be Well and Good Luck,