Vantage Point
             April 22, 2020—50th Anniversary of Earth Day
                         for Beth 
  
  
 There is a little climb ahead.
 It is worth it. I promise.
  
 Yes. These prairie grasses are tall,
 already, in April.
 It is hard to see the trail today.
 But it is there, made by feet before us.
  
 Look! A pleated gentian, blue as the sea.
 And a pink wild rose, sister
 to the apple and strawberry. Here’s the flick
 and bob of the prairie warbler, olive gold
 with a voice like silver bells. And over there,
 past the orb-weaving spider in her web,
 can it be a small stand of cacti, sheltering
 against a wall of white sand? 
  
 Yes. I see some char, some broken glass.
 I guess that is natural, too.
  
 There is a compass plant, something to steer by,
 almost as tall as a tree. And there is the lone cedar, shaped
 by the wind, reaching, reaching…
  
 Sure. Take a moment to catch your breath
 under this immense blue. It is true,
 there are a few storm clouds on the horizon
 infused with the colors of abalone, holding
 the rattle of thunder. Let us hope for some streaks
 of Promethean fire. 
  
 Tonight, the new moon
 offers new beginnings: Tomorrow 
 and all the tomorrows ahead.
  
  
 Leslie Schultz 

I have been thinking a lot this spring about how the first Earth Day, back in 1970, arose from the catalyst of photographic vision–both scientific and poetic–from NASA’s first images of Earth from the vantage point of the Moon. We saw in a flash, it seemed, that this is a single if intricate whole that all of us share. We saw the beauty and the fragility, and that we are in this together–not just humanity but all of the forms life takes. That profound insight help to shape progressive legislation and a shared vision. I believe we are all experiencing something like that now, in this pandemic that knows no borders. My hope is that going forward we will be able to act on this insight so as to enlarge our sense of compassion and belonging, our confidence in the effectiveness of individual and collective actions to make a positive difference.

I think today’s poem might be a pencil sketch for a longer, more complicated poem that looks at the lives and works of John Muir, Rachel Carson, Aldo Leopold, and Gaylord Nelson. Perhaps others, too. On April 22, 2017, I published this villanelle, “Motif for Ansel Adams”, inspired by his own words. (I included there a link to a six-minute documentary–“Ansel Adams: Photography with Intention”.) I would like to do something similar for these other environmentalists, but I see I will need more than one day to think all that through.

When I was in high school, I received a writing award from the National Council of Teachers of English, and afterwards a signed letter from Senator Gaylord Nelson congratulating me. I wish I had known then of his stellar environmental record and of his own (much more influential) literary accomplishments. Now on my wish list? His last book, published in 2002: Beyond Earth Day: Fulfilling the Promise. I see there is also a new edition of Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac with an introduction by Barbara Kingsolver. At the urging of our friends, the Clarys, we have already ordered a copy of the documentary, Tomorrow. I hope it comes today.

Meanwhile, I shall just take it one step, one breath, at a time. Perhaps today will be the day for a trip to the McKnight Prairie Remnant near our home. If conditions are right. The vantage point there is unparalleled.

Happy Earth Day! LESLIE