Start small

It’s possible you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed.

If, like me, you care about the environment and the future of our little blue planet, you might even be losing a bit of sleep these days.

The on-going information about pollution, mass extinctions, and the accumulating tonnes of plastic strangling our oceans weighs heavily on my mind.  I’m keen to do something about it; any of it.  But what?

Long before our plastic nightmare, my father used to take pots and pans to the local Chinese takeaway in our village.  He likes to think he started the takeaway industry; transporting his curry from restaurant to stovetop in his own pans, ready for reheating at home.  No containers, no waste, and definitely no plastic in this equation.

My maternal grandma used to use the old, curdled milk to make scones.  Why throw it away when it’s still good for something else?  My mum said grandma was a dab hand at making scones, and hers were always fluffy, soft and light as air.

So, here comes the age old question.  When it comes to taking a stance in our throwaway generation, can the actions of one person really make any difference?  One small deed seems so insignificant when you consider the magnitude and global scale of the issues. You are just a grain of sand. A blip on the radar.  As you face the seemingly impossible task, will your fear paralyse you into inaction?

Before you answer that, let me tell you a story.

A couple of years ago, someone in our apartment block left old gardening pots for the garbage collection.  One of them held a twig of something, sprouting just one small, hopeful leaf.  I wasn’t sure what it was.  Perhaps a citrus bush?  Lemon?  It was still alive. It hadn’t given up.

Determination.  Life.  Possibility.  The sight of it moved me.  A living thing left out with the rubbish.

I rescued it from the bins.  Put it in the sun, on my balcony.  I watered it, and I waited to see if one leaf was enough for it to survive.  Over time, it began to grow.  One twig became two, other leaves came.  After a while it even tried to blossom and bear fruit.  I put it in a larger pot.  Miniature green lemons appeared, like tiny buds on its thin stems.  But a corner balcony receives the city’s fickle wind gusts from every side, and the fruit buds were blown off before they could ever develop.  A pot on a concrete balcony is really no life for a citrus tree.

It was alive, but the chance of it thriving seemed tenuous.  I noticed it had started to develop leaf damage, some sort of insect infestation which began to kill its foliage.  It battled on, but it was struggling. What else could I do?

I asked a friend if she could take it.  She had a garden, and it would at least have the chance to grow in the ground, to put down roots in healthy soil.  Perhaps it would rally then.  We transported it to her house by car, where her husband could treat the infestation, and where it stayed in its pot, awaiting its fate.

Time.  Weather.  The will to survive.  All of them played their part.  It continued to grow.

They decided to take it to their beach house, where they planted it on the sloping land of their rear garden, overlooking the sea.  Regular reports indicated it was doing well.  I was so thankful to my friends, for persevering, for giving it a chance.

Visiting their beach house last year, and standing on their ocean view verandah, I saw a leafy green bush in their garden, well established, and heavy with fruit.  It was flourishing.

“That’s yours,” they told me. “But it’s actually a lime tree.”

We picked some of the fruit, and sliced the juicy limes for our drinks in the afternoon. They were the best limes I’d ever tasted, allowing for a certain emotional bias.

I often think of that beautiful tree, stirred by sea winds blowing straight up, off the surface of the ocean.  It’s a simple joy, knowing that it’s alive.

Imagine now if you could rescue something.  Save someone.  Grow something.  One small deed.  Almost invisible to all but you.  Then imagine all your friends doing the same. Everyone in your street.  Multiply that deed across your suburb.

So I’ll ask you again.  How can you improve your little corner of the world?  What do you want to preserve?  What is your passion?  Who can you galvanise to help you?

Nothing is too small to be saved.  Even if it only has one leaf.