We remember them fondly sometimes. Remember the first time we met. Our time together was short and of much hardship, we wish it would have been different. The Grandmothers of their Grandmothers, when they arrived, they looked at Us fondly too. We spoke long nights under the moon and gave them shelter under our branches. They would watch our winds dancing through wildflowers and survived harsh winters thanks to our hides. Their kids grew distant, we talked less, they took our branches and our logs to build shelter better suited. We didn’t mind; it would grow back. We were happy that our gifts were of use. And they were grateful and threw festivities in our honor. Their children, in turn, grew more distant still, they ripped us open for our peat and clay and stone. They still celebrated but forgot what for and for whom. It all happened so fast for us, never have we had a friend like them. A friend that took so much, a friend so hungry. Every new child grew more distant. They forgot our language at some point. They fenced us in and drew their borders, when they used to love to watch us run. They took the forests we built our nests in, when they used to love to listen to our song. They straightened our rivers, mowed down our fields and sowed one grass where hundreds used to be. It was the place where our winds danced through wildflowers, and they would watch. Now we can’t and they won’t, and they didn’t.
Lees verder: Minor sustainable contributions to societyIt only got worse from here.
We asked them to stop as we couldn’t afford their gifts anymore, it was too much. Maybe you could help us in turn? We don’t think they heard.
We pleaded with them as we saw how little of us was left, it was not enough. Maybe you could help us in turn? We don’t think they noticed.
We begged them as we knew that we were dying. Maybe you could help us, we need it. We don’t think they cared.
The last we remember of them were their machines that spew darkness in the air, their potions draining life out of our soil and the waste they threw into our waters. We couldn’t take it any longer. We shook our soils and earth with violence to wake the life in us again. We flooded lands and seas and rivers to get the poison out of them. And to get rid of all the darkness so that we weren’t to be killed, we had to ask upon the sun and for her to boil the air it filled.
It has been a while since we saw them, they were angry at us when we last did. Now we have trees and nests and song again. We have our winds dancing in fields of wildflowers once more. But we have no one to listen to us sing or to watch us dance. We remember them fondly sometimes and think
“We miss you and we wish you hadn’t left”
David Bebensee
3e jaar Bachelor, Minor Future Planet Innovation, Sustainable contributions to Society.
Het verhaal is geschreven in het kader van een workshop Storytelling: “Schrijf een verhaal over De Onlanden”
Vraagstelling voor de Minor was: “Hoe kan meer verbinding van mensen met hun natuurlijke leefomgeving leiden tot meer zorg voor die leefomgeving?”
Hun eindrapportage is te vinden op het internet: “De Onlanden, from nature consumption to Nature connection”