Happy Earth Day!

This morning, a spring snow sat heavy on tree branches and carpeted the barely thawing ground. Looking outside, my first thought appeared as a felt sensation of the moment that a first sip of water soothes a gritty thirst. It is true that the western United States got buried under a whopping amount of precipitation this winter. Mountain snowfall from Tahoe to Flagstaff to Colorado’s high country saw record amounts of powder that will provide a welcome, though modest, comfort cushion to the overall alarming depth of drought conditions.

The Wasatch Mountains in Utah.

Tuesday, April 18, gawked at by me from a plane window.

However, despite abundant snow elsewhere, the land beneath the shadow of Tavá / Pikes Peak remains quite dry. A drink of melted snow is most welcome as new growth emerges from seeds and branches. And it seems particularly lovely that a sweet sip of spring snow falls on Earth Day.

Today, I write as a small and personal ode to Earth Day, which I have earnestly and adoringly loved since I first learned about it in middle school. It is also a gentle and much needed nudge to summon the spirit of ‘third time’s a charm’ for keeping this whisper of a blog idea watered, nurtured, and growing.

With this blog in mind, a few weeks ago I was poking around a used and rare bookstore in Manhattan when a slim blue volume caught my eye. Always attendant to the shirt sleeve tug of used bookstore magic, I picked up Nancy Willard’s Water Walker, a new-to-me poet. I dog-eared her Poem Made of Water as fodder for a future post:

Praise to my text, Water, which taught me writing,

and praise to the five keepers of the text,

water in Ocean, water in River, water in Lake,

water in cupped hands, water in Tears. Praise

for River, who says: Travel to the source,

poling your raft of words, mindful of currents,

avoiding confusion, delighting in danger

when its spines sparkle, yet keeping

your craft upright, your sentence alive….

Building on the theme of tending to the aliveness of our Earth, I can’t help but wonder if every solution to the many challenges of climate change begins simply with Mary Oliver’s sage advice for living:

            Pay attention.

            Be astonished.

            Tell about it.

Perhaps the magic of creativity starts with our own observations, then translated to words, and shared with others. This is the enthusiasm that calls me to renew the Bell Tower writings, and it is the invitation I offer to you today, on the 53rd anniversary of Earth Day. Attune your eyes to the corner of the Earth that you call home, build your own “raft of words” describing the views you see, and share your raft with others — including me! I would love to read your words in the comments so that I may gratefully pay attention to what grabs your attention.

Thank you as always for reading and I’ll see you back here soon!