How will we be remembered?
This is a question being asked all around us as we approach the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence and the beginning of the United States as we know it.
How have we changed and grown as a nation, and what legacy will our generations leave behind?
The better question is this: How do we want to be remembered? Twenty-five or thirty years from now, when someone is reviewing our social media or searching through digital copies of the newspaper, what stories will we have left to remember us by?
Will Nature’s memory of us be positive, or will we be viewed as failures?
Will our solidarity in protecting both people and the environment be hailed as a step forward toward a better future for people and the planet, or will we be seen as yet another generation who gave up too soon when the fight wasn’t over?
How will you be remembered 50 years from now? As a staunch supporter of free access to clean water for everyone, as a proponent of hands-on classroom science classes, or perhaps as a long-time supporter of 4-H?
What do you want people to remember about your relationship with nature? Do you want to be remembered as a great steward of the environment, or as a person who was more concerned about personal comfort today than how their decisions affected others living on this planet?
None of us get it right all the time. There are days when life gets in the way and not everything makes it into the recycling bin instead of the trash can. There are nights when I’m tired and forget to turn off all the lights before I go to sleep. Occasionally I choose fast food over healthy food.
How do I ensure these are the exceptions and not the rule of my life?
Two things I know for sure about nature: it abhors a vacuum, thus the weeds between my flowers when I forget to mulch, and nature has a memory, look at the rings of the trees.
Just like I can choose to mulch around my flowers, I can choose how nature remembers me.
I want those memories to be of me spending time outside, enjoying the beauty of each day. I want memories of planting pollinator-friendly flowers, having an herbicide free yard, and growing lots of tomatoes. I want nature to remember me fondly, as a person who always stopped to appreciate the flowers, who didn’t litter, and who turned off the faucet when I was done.
I hope nature remembers the many times I encouraged you to go outdoors, to stop and gaze up at the stars, and to share your experiences with your friends. I want my kids to remember the untold number of hikes we took in the woods, the green beans we planted together, and that every tomato plant can have a name if you want it to.
Fifty years from now, I hope nature sees someone who was inspired to protect her because I set an example worth following.
The past 250 years have seen our land go through tumultuous times, poor choices, bad politics and some bright spots. These often happened all in the same year, definitely in the same decade.
If the rings of the trees could tell stories of our stewardship of nature for the past 250 years like they tell stories of rain, drought and fire, what would those stories be? In the future, will nature tell stories of rejoicing over you?
I hope so. I hope that nature’s memories of you are strong ones, where you stand up for justice for marginalized communities and their access to green space. Where you help protect watersheds and pollinator habitats. Where you plant vegetables in your garden and share them to build healthier communities.
May you leave a nature legacy worth following.
Carol Noel enjoys time spent in nature year round, and falling asleep to the sounds of bullfrogs, rain, or waves on the beach. She is a founding director of Heart of the River Coalition and a monthly contributor to the weekly On Nature column.