Driving into Baltimore, right where the road I was on merged onto the Beltway, I had to stop because of traffic. I had the windows down, and so I noticed there, in the little triangle of green between a road continuing and another beginning—noticed within that small oasis of grass and weeds, the sound of crickets.
Because the traffic there was stop and go, at one stop, I noticed strands of spider web glistening in the sun, strung between tall grass and cattails.
Now I don’t believe there’s any question but that we have imposed too much concrete on the earth. I don’t believe there’s any question but that we have been short-sighted and overly influenced by convenience and immediate gratification in our decision making. I don’t believe there’s any question but that the way we have chosen to live will have, perhaps unintended, but nonetheless profoundly difficult consequences for our children and our children’s children.
And yet, I am grateful that even in the smallest patches of green, nature still sings.