Wild Reclamation

By Samantha Reinke

The world was once quiet, peaceful, with animals that grazed the land, trees grew tall and mighty, the sky; blue and majestic. Every so often with the power of Zeus, the storms set in taking over the sky, creating flashes of light, booming thunder and intense darkness. Then it would stop and everything that was destroyed was reborn from the remaining ashes. It is the way of the universe; that what was once here before will be again.

Once there was nothing but an empty galaxy, then a planet, then a habitat nurtured by the sun and sky, then a mass of destruction known as mankind. They didn’t come all at once, but overtime in small amounts, a few roaming the land building small huts and houses, non-destructive and unnoticeable. Then a few became more, more became many, and many became chaos.

They build mighty concrete towers that pierce the never-ending sky, and dig dark, unstable tunnels that visit the deepest depths of the earth, leaving blind destruction in their wake. I’ve heard them call it progress, evolution, an improvement for the sake of mankind; lead by ignorance of the broken land they’d leave behind. My trees, once tall and mighty, are now in the form of stumps and the latest news, the grass that was once lushes of emerald green, now consists of small patches of manmade rock and infertile mud. My beautiful wild flora, delightful daisies and roses of ruby red, now withered away into an indefinite hibernation. What was wild is no more, or so it is believed.

The shiny metal structures of assorted shapes, sizes and purposes, lubricated in oil and polish, grinding, groaning and grumbling on in a haze of smog. They eat away at the earth, attempting to grow permanent roots, but never succeeding. After a while they are forgotten, rendered old, broken down and useless. Left to the elements, a sienna coating of rust begins to hide the once gleaming silver machines. How long can this “progress” last? At the rate in which the environment changes into a mechanical society, there inevitability must be an end.

Radioactive dictators explode throughout the land causing widespread annihilation, while walking plagues of humanity torture the earth one last time, feasting on the sanity of the surviving few. Then all at once the waves towers high above the cities, swallowing the land whole, the flames of orange and red breeding masses of heat and chaos, devouring anything that still wanders the lonely, degraded earth, leaving nothing but silence.

The stillness revealing nothing. A hum echoes through the air, radiating from the earth’s centre, as if it was regenerating its power, rebooting like the preceding machines once had, until one day I resurface. I rise from the dark corners where I hid for many years, coming in the form of green, gold, blue and red. I grow and cultivate the devastated realm. My flora reappears from the seeds nestled beneath the soil where they hibernated throughout the apocalyptic cleansing. First a sprout, then a vine, then a multitude of colour, reclaiming every inch that was stolen.

I gave birth to creation, I am the primal goddess. [40] I have a way of fighting back, I sit peacefully around you, picked at and demolished, but my remains adapt and regrow, as though I was there all along. I am beautiful, enticing, and enchanting but I will always be wild. I can’t be tamed or obliterated. I am the earth’s powerful mother. [41] I lurk in the corners of your existence, anticipating the day I can reclaim what was once mine, leaving you in my wake.

[40] Gaea. (2016). Greekmythology.com. Retrieved 31 August 2016, from http://www.greekmythology.com/Other_Gods/Gaea/gaea.html

[41]Osborn, D. (2015). Greek Mythology: Gaia - Mother Earth, Mother Nature. Greekmedicine.net. Retrieved 31 August 2016, from http://www.greekmedicine.net/mythology/mythology.html