CITY ISLAND LINES
As always, the centennial congress convened at the confluence of sand, sea, and sky. The participants milled nervously about sticking mostly with their own clans. It was a tapestry of fins, fur, and feathers.
The whales sang out first. ‘We want justice! These ignorant creatures use so much resource. They think only of themselves. They never share or consider the impact of their actions. And they create so much waste! Then they just fling it wherever they please. They never clean up after themselves,’ they wailed. A wake of vultures huddled conspiratorially on the shore. ‘ Not even we can keep up with the mess that they make!’ cackled a bald old bird. ‘These brutes are breaking the rules of nature.’ A pack of wolves whirled nervously on the sand. ‘They want to eat everything and share nothing. They even kill when they are not hungry!’ howled one. ‘And they eat the weirdest things,’ added a wizened tortoise. A swarm of bees chimed in with a rumbling buzz. ‘With their need and greed, they are poisoning us!’ ‘Us too,’ echoed the vultures. A gnarled and ancient pine tree interrupted the din with its sonorous voice. ‘Well, they are naked and young. They need to create cover and shelter for themselves. In spite of their frailty, they continue to multiply and live longer lives. They probably need more food and fuel to accomplish this.’ Its tone was avuncular and comforting. ‘Although they are strikingly ill-equipped, they’ve learned how to fly. There’s something intriguing about them, ‘ it continued. ‘I’ve lived for millennia and seen many things. There has been no creature able to overturn the laws of nature. I say, give them a chance to prove themselves. They are intelligent and resourceful. They will see the error of their ways and make amends.’ Underwhelmed but obedient, the congress agreed to delay action until their next meeting. But the following assembly was a small and sad affair. A lone wolf faced a gloomy tortoise. They were unaccustomed to such raw proximity, yet they were the only ones on the shore. ‘Why is it so quiet?’ whined the wolf. ‘All of the bees are gone,’ lamented the tortoise. ‘Poisoned.’ ‘And the vultures too?’ barked the wolf in disbelief. The tortoise nodded morosely. A gaunt whale, tangled in a straight-jacket of plastic, sang a doleful note from the water, mourning the loss of its pod and progeny. Then a woeful whisper from the toppled pine tree echoed across the barren landscape. ‘They have felled my family and pillaged the planet. I was wrong! This beast will be the downfall of us all. Let justice be done. Release the virus.’ 4 Feb 2020
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