Every Day is Earth Day

I returned to my island home on Earth Day last week.

Mind you, flying 12 hours, through three packed airports on two completely full planes was not the ideal, nor my preferred, way to celebrate Earth Day. I was double-masked for nearly 12 hours, even though I had tested negative before I began my journey. And I’d test negative again days after my return.

I made a beeline for the airport exits. I walked away from others who were waiting for their rides. I ripped off both masks and gulped in the fresh air, deliberating pulling in the moist, ocean-tinged air, over and over again.

My friend arrived in her hybrid Chevy Volt, and we made our way home, island hopping over two bridges to reach our destination. Happy Earth Day.

It had still been chilly and damp during the day and cold at night when I’d departed. When I got home, I noticed spring had also returned to the island a bit ahead of me.

The daffodils popped into dance, scattered in different spots throughout the yard. Some had been planted by my grandmother, some by my aunt. Most recently, my cousin and I had added our own offerings to the matriarchal march of the daffodils. They sported different styles: a deep primary-color yellow, a pale, almost-white with an orange-ringed center; some have packed, ragged petals that make them look like pompoms, so perfect.

My grandmother’s treasured lilac bushes were sporting tight, curled leaves that had begun to unfurl ever so slightly. The forsythia blooms trumpeted their arrival with bursts of yellow. The privet hedge had the first hints of its lush green. A single red tulip had come out to play near the butterfly bush, which is a late bloomer, in the true sense of the word.

The indigenous red maples that stand guard near the old slate wall that runs along the property line had the tiniest tips of buds venturing forth. And there’s a Japanese maple in the front yard that my father planted on the spot where he proposed to my mother in the summer of 1957. The crimson colors had just begun to show.

The yard and all its trees and flowers carry reminders of our family history and bring joy each spring.

This year, Earth Day marked its 51th birthday.

“It may be hard to imagine that before 1970, a factory could spew black clouds of toxic smoke into the air or dump tons of toxic waste into a nearby stream, and that was perfectly legal. They could not be taken to court to stop it.

How was that possible? Because there was no EPA, no Clean Air Act, no Clean Water Act. There were no legal or regulatory mechanisms to protect our environment.

In spring 1970, Senator Gaylord Nelson created Earth Day as a way to force this issue onto the national agenda. Twenty million Americans demonstrated in different U.S. cities, and it worked! In December 1970, Congress authorized the creation of a new federal agency to tackle environmental issues, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.” https://www.epa.gov/history/epa-history-earth-day

I need to remind myself, or have nature remind me, of all the gifts of natural beauty that surround us. During this pandemic, I have certainly recognized and affirmed all the things I tend to take for granted, including the abundance of natural beauty: flowers, trees, vegetables, clean water, blustery winds, crashing waves, fresh air.

I believe Earth Day is every day; it’s up to us to remember and celebrate it every day by showing reverence for our island home that sustains and nourishes us.

In 2014, my friend who picked me up at the airport on Earth Day began participating in a monthly beach cleanup, sponsored by a local nonprofit, Clean Ocean Access. She chose a stretch of coastline running along the east side of Sachuest Point National Wildlife Refuge. Every month, she picks up trash and debris, either left by human visitors or tossed up from the ocean, also thanks to humans.

I began joining her a few years ago. I love Aquidneck Island, and I love the ocean and rivers that flow around us and nourish us.

Once a month, we climb down over rocks looking for trash. I carry the clipboard with the tally sheet to mark all the trash we pick up. We have a bag for recyclables and one for garbage. My friend wears gloves. She carries a long gripper device and her Leatherman for freeing stubborn fishing line.

We pick up fishing line that’s wrapped itself around rocks and wedged itself into crevasses; some still has rusted hooks and lures attached. We pick up diapers that people have wedged into crevices, too. There are styrofoam boxes and plastic drink cups and covers. Balloons of rubber, latex, polychloroprene or a nylon fabric wash up on shore with their ribbons caught in the rocks, entangled just like fishing line. My friend once found a balloon with an address for a real estate company. She contacted them: the ballon had traveled from an event in New Jersey to our Rhode Island shore.

There are beer bottles and cans. Cups with chewed chewing tobacco, cigarette butts and discarded packs. Plastic bags. Food wrappers. Plastic spoons and forks. Face masks are a new addition to waste.

We also find buoys and floats, big pieces of styrofoam, and partial crab and lobster traps.

There are many ugly, disturbing finds. The worst, perhaps: my friend found rats in a plastic iced coffee cup.

Each time I complete a monthly cleanup, I feel demoralized and gratified. I am glad we are making a small difference. And I imagine what a huge difference we could make if everyone would simply pack out the trash they packed in. Enjoy the beautiful vistas for our recreation, parties, picnics and sunset watching. Respect that beauty. Treasure it. Care for it.

I watch people visit our beaches, stroll along and pick up clam shells, scallop shells and rocks to bring back as souvenirs to adorn their gardens or bookshelves. They walk right past the plastic bag trapped by sand on the shore’s edge, the discarded children’s plastic toys, the errant flip flop or T-shirt. They haul away a trove of treasures from the ocean without picking up a single piece of trash.

Every stroll along the beach could also be a possibility to pick up trash; an opportunity show respect for and give back to the ocean and planet that give us so much, that sustain our very lives.

Every day is Earth Day, on our island home.

Copyright 2021 Cheryl Hatch ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

NOTE: Thank you to Elizabeth Gibbs for the gorgeous photo.

Copyright 2021 Elizabeth Gibbs ALL RIGHTS RESERVED