It isn’t even that complicated. Humans just like destroying things.
I sit here, listening to a bulldozer demolishing woodland just outside the perimeter of our land in order to turn it into bare earth. Not to plant. Not to use. Just to clear, because that’s tidier, and there are wild animals in the forest.
Such is man. Our road will wash away this winter because of what they’re doing today, and while they destroy, we plant.
Like fighting the tide with a teaspoon.
People tell me there are no bees here any more - the apiculturists who put their hives in their olive groves that they spray several times a year to deter hornets (not asiatic hornets, just boring, gentle, European hornets) are puzzled by their decline. Meanwhile, I throw hives into random spots in the forest, and they are all full of bees who chose them as home.
Butterflies and moths abound - we have Europe’s largest moth, and the world’s smallest butterfly, and meadow fritillaries coat the riverbanks like a gently breathing carpet, scattering in clouds as you approach.
All we do is we let nature be, work with existing systems, cut some dead brash here to make a path, scatter some seeds and saplings there to grow the patch of scrubby trees.
Even the custodians of nature have completely lost their connection, as when one owns a tractor, one must use it.
So on I go with the teaspoon.