Readers of Nine Cent Girl have rambled with me for years. Across snowy terrain, deep blue lakes, fields run wild with blooms, and on and off sandy paths for a moment of solitude. Nowadays I skirt along narrow dirt paths that zig and zag bordered by yellow shoots that invite plenty of bird play. Most days the ocean fog lifts and breaks to blue before noon, reminding me of the ease with which I can feel the glory of this Earth. Common weeds bust through sidewalk cracks, saplings take root along stone walls, life teeming despite the abuse humans inflict across this tiny planet. Vulnerable and fragile as our biosphere truly is, we stomp across protected lands, dump our waste haphazardly, drive our monster trucks relentlessly, and nod in agreement as our President calls coal clean and paper straws dangerous. I hold on to a sliver of hope that Gaea has more strength and wisdom than anyone might believe and She will ride out this bumbling world-wide-corporation posing as a governing body.
Nine Cent Girl 