Sea Dance

“Wait for me while I go to preach to my sisters the birds.”

- Francis of Assisi

On Easter morning the wind blew out of the northwest across a clear blue sky, making the sunlight dance on the waves of the choppy sea like tiny sparkles of light, always moving yet somehow unchanging, especially out toward the horizon, which, as the prayer tells us, is “nothing save the limit of our sight.” I sat by the shore, transfixed by this joyful dance, at once buffeted by the gusts of wind and warmed by the sun. On this morning, whatever your faith, comes the promise of spring and the hope for rebirth.

Two days later we celebrate the 55th Earth Day. Inspired by the leadership of Sen. Gaylor Nelson of Wisconsin and launched on April 22, 1970, the event began as a protest against environmental destruction and the pollution of the earth, its air and its water. Public concern about these issues had been growing through the 1960s, starting with the publication of Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring in 1962, and reaching a kind of crescendo in the summer of 1969 when an oil slick caught fire on Cleveland’s Cuyahoga River. This had happened dozens of times before and until then had been considered little more than the cost of industrial progress. But this time was different, and the burning river became a visceral image of environmental destruction and an apt symbol for the first Earth Day.

Coming in the wake of the huge movements to end racism and the Vietnam war that had characterized the 1960s, Earth Day began as a day of protest. It was about stopping things – the poisoning of our land and air, the pollution of our waters, the destruction of wetlands, the threats to endangered species, overpopulation. It was built consciously on the earlier movements, and it quickly became an effective political platform. A year later, it inspired Walt Kelly’s most famous cartoon.

To me, though, Earth Day is a time for celebration as much as protest, for joy as much as anger. Yes, we need to be angry as we watch the full-scale assault – not only on 55 years of environmental protections – but on the environment itself. But let this day, at least, be one of wonder more than rage. We have inherited something beautiful, and despite our best efforts, it will be beautiful long after we are gone. The earth does not need us; in fact, it may well be better off without us. But we need the earth. Its beauty cannot be monetized; its true value has nothing to do with what we can extract from it.

Ridding ourselves of anger does not mean giving up on action. There is a line, not necessarily  straight, but certainly clear, that runs from Francis of Assisi to Henry Thoreau to Mahatma Gandhi to Martin Luther King, Jr. It ties people together instead of driving them apart. It sees humans as part of the natural world, not its overlords. It has long fascinated me that the most important outside supporter of Earth Day was not Friends of the Earth but the United Autoworkers. “Without the UAW,” said Denis Hayes, the event’s national coordinator, “the first Earth Day would have likely flopped.” The auto companies’ management, on the other hand, was already working hard to kill the Clean Air Act.

There is far too much anger in the world and not nearly enough beauty. Our anger should not define our Earth Day protests. Care deeply. Act positively. Speak calmly. For remember, when Saint Francis preached to the birds, not one of them flew away.