TICK TOCK THE CLIMATE CLOCK PART TWELVE

Provence is the perfect place (I could stop the sentence right there) to remind me why I care about climate change. The threat to this landscape, touched by the Romans in their empire building—so wild and awe-inspiring in places, and so tamed and peaceful in others—is real. The land and the creatures that live in harmony with it (man sadly not included) speak to me.  I try my best to listen to their many voices and varied cadences, to take it all in, and to understand their poetry.  I hear...

The cows lowing in the fields. 

The cherries bending their boughs.

The olive trees shimmering in the heat of the day.

The cool spring tickling the moss-covered fountain.

The vines lassoing the sky with their tendrils.

The jasmine releasing its scent to the heat of the wall.

The stream meandering under the Roman bridge.

The donkeys braying in their pasture.

 The poppies waving to the vineyard below.

The varicolored sycamores reflecting their beauty like Narcissus.

The rose staking its claim.

 The blushing hydrangea kissing the stone wall.

The pomegranate opening her heart to implore:

 

Look at us.  No, really look at us.  We are your Mother.  Drink in our beauty.  Let it quench your thirst.  We are beautiful for you.  Cherish us.  Protect us.  Love us.  And if you do, like Persephone, we will lead you out of the dark underworld and back into the light. 

Word play:

Provence was the first Roman province beyond the Alps, and the Romans called it  Gallia Transalpina, or simply Provincia Nostra ('"Our Province"').  The word province has multiple meanings.  It is, of course, a physical area or administrative district, but it is also an area of special interest, knowledge, or responsibility.  The landscape of Provence and the creatures that grace it remind me that the Earth is the province of every living creature.  If man presumes the Earth is under his jurisdiction, then he has the responsibility to protect it. 

Garde les pieds sur terre! = Keep it real!

Marilyn