The heat outside is unbearable. Sweat drips from the brow the moment one is outside, leaving a trail from the temple to the neckline. It’s humid, too. One could almost swim in the air itself.
But the human works.
The human works the ground, works the water and works the air, not stoping for anything.
We work the land, sea and sky, and in doing so, we extract for ourself, and we return only corruption.
Paper in exchange for forests.
Food in exchange for overworked land.
Energy in exchange for pollution.
All for money. All for comfort. All for us.
But what does that leave Mother with?
-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Take less.