GarthRattray/ColumnistThe advent of Easter reminded me of a time when this season was spiritual, peaceful and rainy (a far cry from what it is today). It also prompted the following piece:
The noonday sun shone brightly in the blue Caribbean sky, but it was cold up there in the moisture-laden cloud. Deep within was a
little raindrop. It knew nothing about cloud condensation nuclei, saturation vapour pressures or the dew point; it only knew that it was about to free-fall into a brand new and exciting adventure.
It knew that the earth beckoned it to leave the heavens and join her below to sacrificially surrender itself and moisten the soil to release the nutrients trapped
within. It knew that it would lose itself in the aquifer and percolate its way back to the river and
the saline sea to be eventually
evaporated and once more unite with the clouds.
Directly below the raindrop was an island. From three kilometres up it appeared verdant and serene with hills and valleys, rivers and plains. The little raindrop watched
silently as the rhythmic waves beat themselves against the
undulating coastline. The anticipation was more than it could bear and its release could not come soon enough. As it fell, its shape shifted back and forth from being spheroid one minute to as flat as a pancake the next. It joyously sped towards the island at a terminal velocity of about nine metres per
second.
details emerge
But as the little raindrop came closer, some ugly details began to emerge. There were far too many man-made clearings and a paucity of large trees. The rivers were either going or gone, there were bush fires and the air was hot and dry. Too much of the absorbent earth had been paved over or
else covered up by sprawling human habitats and businesses. Several hills were excoriated; trees, mangroves and reefs were destroyed. This island was not so verdant after all.
Closer still and it saw countless mobile machines belching out
poisonous smoke and caustic
particulates into the atmosphere. A visible blue-grey haze spread itself across the land. Humans and
other animals breathed it in
continuously. The haze sneered mockingly as the raindrop fell into it. The raindrop heard it say, "What do you think you and your kin can do? You cannot wash me away. I shall cling to this land for I am the product of progress and you represent a time long gone when this was a land of wood and water".
Now the little raindrop could only hope for the best. Closer
still and it heard an unholy din emanating from the land. Things were moving much faster now; it saw a kaleidoscope of people from all walks of life. The poor, fearful, selfish and aggressive far out-numbered the contented, caring and peaceful people. Violence and death were everywhere ... so much for serenity.
As the little raindrop hurtled helplessly towards the parched and desecrated earth, it wondered how things could have come to this. How could a nation so blessed with natural beauty and bounty squander such a gift? How could they not know that without enough trees and sprawling grasslands, robust rivers and healthy coastlines their country will not survive? How could they have allowed hate, distrust, disharmony and violence to dwell amongst them? This was a distracted nation worn thin by poverty, crime and violence, a people too caught up in their day-to-day survival to see that the land is slowly drying up and dying all around them.
This story has several alternate endings. The little raindrop could fall onto grime-covered streets or perhaps a pool of blood left on the street by the victim of a crime. It could fall on barren land or some hard, man-made surface and
evaporate without completing its natural cycle. Or, it could fall on a peaceful people living in unity with one another and nature where a receptive soil welcomes the little raindrop and allows it to fulfil
its destiny of nourishment and renewal. Which Jamaica do you want? Our destiny is in our hands.
Dr Garth A. Rattray is a medical doctor with a family practice.
