Last week I had headed out mid-morning to mow the yard. I began on the hell strip – that narrow section between the sidewalk and the street. The weeds had grown a lot from the abundance of rain that we had the previous week, so I was going slowly and trying not to miss the extra tall ones. I was only about ten minutes into my task when I looked up to see a white pickup truck driving slowly past me. Then I saw a man leaning out the passenger window and holding a wand. He was spraying the weeds that had popped up in the cracks of the asphalt. There was a large tankful of poison sloshing around in the back of the pickup. Seconds later, I felt the spray hit my bare legs. Within a couple of minutes, the foul, caustic stench permeated the air. I promptly abandoned my mowing and went inside.
I was angry. I had other chores that I wanted to complete that morning in my garden and I resented having to come indoors. I like to spend as much time as possible outside before I have to go to work and deal with cigarette smoke and cleaning chemicals, which are all too abundant in the small area where I must confine myself for the duration of my shift. But; after I had gone inside the house, the herbicide was making its way in through my open windows, as it often does after my neighbor has had her yard sprayed.
Nature has provided us with so many heavenly fragrances, but they are overpowered by the strong, obtrusive smells of our modern life. People waste money on imitation room fresheners that merely mask the foul odors and add insult to injury. I am always concerned for the dogs, cats, and wildlife whose sense of smell is so much greater than our own. I worry about my cat’s exposure to the dangerous chemicals when he chases bugs and eats the grass outside, or when he naps beneath the shrubs. I worry that my organic garden, on which I have worked countless hours, has been compromised when the poisons drift down upon it, after being carried there by the breeze.
Sometimes, my anger and frustration about the poisons that have saturated our environment, drives me to tears. My heartache is not just for myself, but for Mother Earth and for all of the birds, insects, and plants that will suffer and die because of widespread ignorance, and because of the deliberate and unnecessary poisoning of the planet we live on. On one level I know that anger is a profuse waste of energy, but in this case I know it is righteous anger.
