Man vs. Nature

So, I was having a great day today. I went for a run, worked in my "garden" (translate: potted plants), did yoga, and just generally relaxed. Then, I decided to come into work at Georgia Institute of Technology in Atlanta, Georgia. The building I work in is a huge glass and metal monstrosity. When it was built, dozens of old, beautiful trees were ripped from the ground and pulverized (picture the scene in LOR when the Ents are weeping). In their place was planted puny, scraggly garden trees - not enough for shade or for birds. It's depressingly bare. The other horrible thing about this building is that it systematically and silenty picks off little, jeweled birds one by one, leaving their carcasses to rot in the dirt and grass at its feet. The three story glass walls confuse the birds and they fly into them at full speed. Usually they die instantly from impact. But, today... I was walking along and I saw a beautiful, emerald green bird with a bright yellow throat and belly sitting by the building. As I approached it, I saw that it could barely stand and was missing the feathers on the top of its head (where a large blood-red welt appeared). It had been lured by the bewitching glass structure to its ultimate death. I sat down by the little bird and stroked its head and back. It opened its eyes and looked at me. I could see how much pain it was in. The poor thing was shaking, and trying so hard to recover. I cried. I don't understand this world. I've tried so hard to get Ga Tech to do something about this problem, but I'm ignored. I can't comprehend a world that chooses to let the jewels of nature be lost so that we can marvel at the beguiling architectures of man. I think Tolkien aptly captures humanity with his depiction of man versus nature, in which the ugly, power-hungy Orcs systematically destroy the natural realm around them to promote industrialization.

A Bird Came Down by Emily Dickinson
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,--
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
That rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.