Dear Momma Earth,

I'm writing this now as I sit outside our house with my dog and the warm, sweet air breezing through.

I haven't seen you that much since the lockdown, so that's me saying I miss you very very much. Although I have a pretty good view of you from our house and I still occasionally walk my dog outside (we're lucky to be settled right in front of our subdivision's park), it's not the same as experiencing you, breathing you in.

I miss the bigger parks—the way the trees sway along with the wind, the cute moving shadows they cast against the bright sun, the clear skies, the clouds, the lake, the people enjoying it all. I miss the beaches—the waves washing back and forth, the sand, the seashells, the palm trees, the occasional monkeys! The people enjoying it all. But I'm sorry we enjoyed it all too much.

I'm sorry we abused all your goodness when we're supposed to help keep you together. I'm sorry for the all the trees we cut out of your lungs and replacing it with concrete instead. I'm sorry for the pollution that keeps you from breathing easy. I'm sorry for the abuse on the wildlife that runs through your veins and brings life to your soul. I'm sorry we can't bring ourselves together to keep you together. You've given us sustenance and beauty, we gave you greed and selfishness. And maybe everything that's happening right now to mankind is rightly provoked, deserved, and a long time coming. I'm sorry we pushed you to your limits, and I'm sorry we've led things to the way they are now.

But are we too late? Is there still fixing in all of this? Or are you so fucking sick of us that your patience and tolerance has ran out of room for the likes of humankind? I'm so so sorry. I love you. Happy you day.