Feeling the change

Recently, 13 March 2006, I drove north to Te Kopuru, south of Dargaville on the peninsula - right next to the Wairau River. Its the place from where the masses and tons of cut kauri logs used to be shipped down the coast to Auckland ports - many years ago now. It was a drive I have not taken before - I've been North, to Whangarei and way beyond, to the tip of Cape Reinga. But I've never been on the road that goes west from Brynderwynn. I was struck by the landscape - it was not the North I remember as a child, when I lived in Whangarei. I remember rain (often) and green - lots and lots of it. With all that rain (on a daily basis it seemed), how could it not be green?

But this trip - I found disturbing. I had Tookie and Anna with me - my ecovillage friends from Australia. They were heading up to look at a small bach and property to purchase from Tookie's parents. A little kauri villa. So we set off in hope and excitement.

The signs all along that highway announced (insistently) that we were in "Kauri country". I saw a whole lot of museums and sheds and huts selling kauri products, kauri gum, carved kauri tables, clocks - anything that kauri could be turned into. I am quite sure we didn't pass a Kauri forest. Anywhere. There may have been the odd tree standing staunchly - and carefully - among some of the stands we saw. But not a "forest" in sight. Of course, considering the number of museums and "kauri for sale" signs we passed, we could guess where the kauri was. Anywhere but where it should be.

And then - the dry landscape. The grass was yellow and brown and I exclaimed at it. On a number of occasions. Anna said "you think this is dry? in Australia its red dirt - and not a blade of grass in sight...". I suppose put that way, and in a comparitive perspective, it wasn't all that bad.... But it sure isn't the NZ I know and remember. Oh it IS NZ alright, but not for the first time I felt the weight of the climate change on the land. And it gripped me in a strange sense of grief.... Not for our beautiful planet - I am convinced that whatever we do to it, we will come off second best and it WILL survive, and rejuvenate, and continue... I grieved I think for the idiocy of the human species to which I belong, and the arrogance that has allowed us to think we can continue to rape what sustains us with impunity. Even taken to an individualistic, rape is NEVER with impunity. There are consequences - for the rapist, for the victim. And sometimes, the rapist comes off way second best.

Being mid-March it should really have been a little cooler at nights, the humidity fading a little in preparation for the autumn. It felt like the dense mid-summer that we had just (apparently) passed through. Right now - typing this at almost mid-autumn - it feels like summer still - and the trees and the birds and the landscape reflects that same confusion. The kauri tree growing next to our house is a little confused - pine cones sprout and drop and spread their seeds at a time when it would not usually be happening. I touch the trunk every day, and apologise profusely for the dimwit who planted it right bang smack next to a house, with its roots covered in tarseal. Mind you, as the years roll by, I know who the winner will be in that battle - the house WILL give way to the kauri - its a given. There is about 6 inches left between the trunk and the edge of the decking. It must be around 15 years old - in another 15 years old I have a feeling it will be here.....and the people that lived around it will be either long gone or starving - desperate as the fossil fuels dissipate, make-shift water tanks springing up as the pump systems set up for the water supplies to homes become redundant. Unable to travel to their jobs, or use their computers because of the power crisis - trying desperately to grow food from seed that does NOT seed - and not sure how to do this without the tools and knowledge that the previous generation (not so long ago) had at their fingertips without a second thought. I can fish. I can dive. I can grow vegetables. I have seed that DOES seed....but in the midst of the chaos, how long will I keep the desperate ones at bay? I am also a pacifist - so beating people from my door will be a difficult stand to take. I will offer them, anyone, everyone, what I have and know - but will it be enough? Should I perhaps go bush with my children and teach them how to survive away from the dangers of humanity? Should I teach myself archery in preparation for the battle?

Yes....all those meanderings from a single trip north. My gut tells me, though, that the crisis will hit soon - well within my lifetime. Completely within the young adulthood of my children. I am sorry for many things - and at this time, I am sorry I have brought new life to the planet. It doesn't need it. And they don't need this either.

But I want the Earth to survive, and begin again. Perhaps the next major species will learn from the sins of those who went before....? She says, hopefully.....