I am the soil. I am in the hills, and in the valleys, the farms, the orchards. Without me humans could not exist. But you treat me like dirt. Do you realize that I am just a thin skin
on this planet? And that I’m actually alive? Full of organisms that grow your food. But I am broken, aching, overused, sick. Because of you. You have withered me away to less than half of what I used to be just over 100 years ago. Are you paying attention? I am turning to dust. So maybe you could treat me with a little more respect. I suppose you still want to eat, right?