Mulberry Leaves

It is October, and the crinkled laves of the mulberry tree reach to the upper windows of the house. Crumpled gold stalks of canna, the decadent water monger look like scarecrows bowed over the brown lawn. All of the landscape hangs on for water as the drought continues into fall. We wonder if by next spring, all the trees will fall down.

I read that the ice thaw in the Arctic is killing the polar bears.The necessary ice for walking out to pull up seals from their holes is gone. No ice to stand on, no food to sustain the pregnant bears until spring, no fuel for the young and old bears who need to store fat for the winter. We are told to hold onto the memory of the great furry dinosaur-like bear we once saw at the zoo, fat and lounging on plastic ice, with bright colored beach toys nearby. How will we sustain ourselves on such images of subtraction and substitution? How foolish to think we can live, raise our children and grow our society on such faulty visions. It is like being fed junk food. What will happen to our minds if we no longer have the will to dream and imagine, and once in a while, a view of something alive and wild?