Curled up in bed this morning — a morning of cold, wet and grey — I couldn’t help but feel slightly depressed about the ongoing destruction of Tasmania’s old growth forests. Especially now that the government has both lifted a moratorium against logging in the Tarkine, the world’s largest remaining tract of temperate rain forest, and commenced logging in the Styx Valley where some of Tasmania’s tallest trees live.
Wrapped in my warm doona, I reflected on how today is also the day that the Wilderness Society is beginning a thirteen day around the clock presence at the Styx Valley to coincide with the July 1 High Court decision 20 years ago that stopped the flooding of the Franklin River.
“Brrrrr”, I thought. “They are going to have a miserable time erecting their marquee and maintaining high spirits in this weather.”
With the thought of dedicating my morning prayers to the Styx Valley crew, I jumped out of my snug confines and made my way over to the Peace Garden in the light rain to greet the ancestors before making my way to the Peace Fire.
And what should happen…… The dawning sun breaks through a small opening in the clouds and throws a rainbow down.
It was as if to say:
“Listen, within the storm resides beauty and hope. What you witness as turmoil is an agent of change, out of which compassion and love for this earth will grow. Stay steadfast in your commitment.”
I went back into the warm house more than buoyed to carry on in my own small way to raise awareness of the reciprocal, reverential connection humans need to have for this earth.
Edward Abbey came to mind:
“We are obliged, therefore, to spread the news, painful and bitter though it may be for some to hear, that all living things on earth are kindred.”