What Will Happen To Our Earth

What Will Happen To Our Earth

I often sit by the window and wonder what this world will look like when I am old. The sky never feels the same anymore. Some days it has a tired colour, as if it has been awake for too many years without a proper rest. I watch the clouds move and they seem slower than they used to be. It is strange how the earth can feel alive and unwell at the same time. I think we feel it too. Maybe we always have.

People talk about the planet as if it is a stranger passing through, but it is our home. It carries every step we take. It holds the memories of our footprints long after the sound of them disappears. Yet we walk through it without listening. We forget it has a voice of its own. A voice that grows quieter every year, like a person who keeps repeating the same warning until they lose the strength to say it one more time.

The earth feels hotter now. I notice it in the nights that refuse to cool. I notice it in the summers that bite instead of warm. Trees bend against winds that should not belong to the month. Seasons slip out of order. Animals appear where they never used to be. The air tastes different. Something in it tells the truth we try to avoid. We are running out of time.

There are days when I feel frightened. It is not the fear of storms or flooding or burning skies. It is the fear that we might look back one day and realise we did nothing until it was too late. People argue more than they act. Some say nothing will happen. Some say everything will happen all at once. Some say we should leave it to the future. I do not think the future has the strength to carry all of this alone.

Yet even in these gloomy thoughts, something inside me refuses to give up. Hope feels like a small light that you cup in your hands when the wind rises. It trembles. It flickers. It almost goes out. Still, it stays. It stays because the earth has survived more than we can ever imagine. It has been wounded before. It has healed before. It knows how to breathe again if we let it.

I believe people can change when they want to. I have seen it. When floods tore through streets, neighbours who never spoke found each other through open doors. When fires raged across hills, strangers stood shoulder to shoulder with buckets and soaked cloths. When storms pulled down roofs, communities built them back together. Disaster brings out the fear in us, but it also brings out the best in us. The part that remembers we are not meant to stand alone.

Maybe that is the answer. Maybe the earth will turn toward healing when we turn toward each other. When we lift our heads and see more than our own small circles. When we plant trees we will never sit under. When we walk instead of drive. When we protect the creatures that depend on us. When we teach the young that the world is not a place to use, but a place to care for.

The earth is hurting, but it is not lost. Not yet. I like to think it waits for us. Patient. Tired. Still hopeful. Like an old friend who has forgiven us too many times, and still waits for us to do better. I want to believe that one day we will. Because if the earth still hopes for us, then we can hope for it. And hope is the first step toward saving anything at all.