The ancestors of my Aboriginal friends understood that they belonged to the land, just as the land belonged to them. Everything they did was guided by the principle of sustainability. They knew that if the land died, they would soon follow.
I look around me and realise that we have lost track of that one, simple truth.
If the land dies. So do we.
Trees are the lungs of the land. Without them, it cannot breathe. Without them, we cannot breathe.
It think about that every time my back starts to complain from digging yet another hole in the ground. The 1600 holes that I have dug so far, and the 1600 trees that have gone into them, are just a drop in the ocean compared to the number that are removed to make way for one development.
Would it be too hard for developers to spare a few patches of native bush from the blades of their bulldozers? Perhaps a boycott of unsustainably developed real estate is needed? It would certainly be a good way to encourage them to think of the end of the story, rather than just the chapter in which they pad their wallets.
And yet, I am so happy to hear that we locals are trying to make a difference. And succeeding!
Hundreds and hundreds of trees have gone into the ground, and will soon be providing food for the possums and koalas, homes for the birds, and habitat for all the other animals. And they will be pumping oxygen into the air for our kids to breathe, for as long as we leave them alone.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I could fill the entire page with that sentiment.
To all of you who are taking the time to do the right thing, for you, for me, for our kids. Thank you.
You have moved onto this land, and are taking care of it, just like those clever Aboriginal people did, for so many centuries.
Thanks.
Because, like I always say, a tree change without trees, is just a change. And not for the better.