Wilderness: that where animals exist. That where humanity finds no reason to be. And yet we're all somehow standing in wilderness. Or that which was once it. 

The fallen tree logs, the leaves that had to wilt way before they ripened into green beauties. The guardians of these, left stranded by humanity in a labyrinth of concrete structures, metallic towers and blinding dusty smoke and thereupon, pulled into cages.

We say they entered the cities. But did they really? Or did we enter the territory that was rightfully theirs? Did we disrupt, what for them, was their home? We're all animals in one way or another. But the difference between us is quite simple yet huge. We speak, we contemplate, we work, we learn. We're advanced, as we call it. And upon recognising the rights of every creature and having discussed them deeply, we trespass. We seek our homes where there ought to be nothing but masses of leafy crowns on trunks, forming canopies, cooling the bodies and souls of the residents underneath. 

And then we complain... "The breeze isn't cool these days, the rain water not pure enough, and the Earth not as tranquil as it used to be".

Let there be leafy shades.

Let there be jungles.

Let kids be free enough to run on the streets naked feet, without the fear of burns.

Let the Earth be Earth again.