On Saturday I hung out with my 84-year-old ecologist great uncle and he stopped in mid-conversation (abt the return of the whooping crane) and very seriously told me that “you can go one of two ways, as a naturalist”; either you keep sight of the hopeful possibilities, or you don’t. I’m one of nature’s wretched little pessimists but when an old ecologist literally holds your hands in his and tells you, “don’t despair,” you have to try, I feel.
I’m immune to a lot of the “hopepunk” narratives about ecology but…
The Karner Blue butterfly was extirpated from Canada the year before I was born. He donated to one of the projects to bring it back for years, and even though the project he was working on fizzled out, I told him about the branch in Toronto, still going strong. They save every lupine seed they can harvest and germinate them carefully so that in 20, 30, 40 years we might have enough habitat to bring the Blues back. He was part of the first wave of that effort.
Fuck!!!! What do you do with that kind of care? You have to at least try to believe that better things are possible!
A matchbox label fit to spark joy, er I mean fit to light restaurant table candles on your own (not necessarily at Ritz). (inspired by vintage matchbox labels and actually fit to print and decorate your own tiny box after a bit of resizing~)
ALT
