My Walk to Publix

Stepping outside I notice there is so much going on. The trees are really noisy. It’s like they’re trying to beat up my ear drums, but I won’t let them.

I notice a metal nature destroyer coming up the rock driveway path to the Ivy Hall building. The driver says low curses as their car bounces around like something on the Flintstones. My heart hurts. They should cherish each rock as if it were a part of their being.

I venture on so that I can begin my one woman journey. Looking around I see how selfish that is. The earth takes this journey to Publix with me. Each step I take the ground is there. It’s the earth’s way of telling me that I’m not alone.

Out of seemingly nowhere something comes crashing on my arm. It’s  fighting with the forces of the wind, because it doesn’t want to let me go. I scream and dance about trying to get it off. It has such a demon grip. Then with great bravery I remove the wet leaf from my being.

 I continue to thank the earth for all that she has done. I see that she is all around me so I wave to her and bow my head as I whisper, “thanks earth.” Others begin to notice the bond we have. They point with jolly smiles and chuckles. I’m sure they’re all saying, “Wow, that girl really gets it.”

As I pass by other people at the cross walk I am reminded that we all will become dirt one day and we will then be a part of earth. Am I already walking over my own afterlife? My own ancestors? Hm, I feel that my journey has given me enlightenment.

“Hello.” I say to one passerby.

“How are you?”

“Oh you know, just breathing in the faint ashes of those who came before us.”

They look at me puzzled. It’s unfortunate how easily people forget to cherish what’s around them.  

“Hey there, you future tree of life.” I say to another.

I feel that I have reached a new state of being, and it is all because I took a walk to Publix.

In the parking lot I notice all of the pollution machines. They come in all of these different forms and colors to make them appealing. But driving yourself to another piece of land isn’t worth killing the land you polluted on the way there.

I walk in and first take notice of the soft fluorescent lighting. It is like they are my own personal sun. I reach out, but just like the sun they are further away than they appear. I walk betwixt a set of large shelves. They are metal. I am grateful that no trees were harmed in the making of these shelves.

 Naturally I must sway and sing ‘Colors of the Wind’ by Pocahontas. Once my song is over I browse about the aisle and notice that so many things are in metal canned containers and cardboard boxes with plastic holding in the food. It’s like being back outside with the metal pollution machines that carry people around. I search around in panic for a recycle bin. I must save the earth from people who – dare I think it- don’t renew, reuse or recycle. I feel as if my lungs are getting clogged with gunk from deep well injections and landfills at the thought of it.

I began to run off and the air feels cooler. I look up and there is a square part in the wall different from everything other tile around it. I bet earth is giving me some of her precious fresh air for caring so much.

I walk over to produce first. Holding up an apple I examine it for any site of pesticides. All fruit should be organic and we all know to take responsibility in making sure that chemicals are not placed in our fruit. I examine it by holding it directly in front of my eye and then going in for the big sniff. It doesn’t really smell like it came from the farm, but it’s also hard to tell. I want to keep my hopes up for the other food so I decide to wander about.

Walking to where a longer line is forming I see the bakery. So many fresh breads and pastries. Everything again is in plastic and everyone knows that plastic is not biodegradable. The only thing that keeps me from going into a full on panic attack is when I see a small label stating that this is in fact recycled material. I hold the loaf of bread up above my head as I catch my breath and say to all of the on lookers who are wondering the same thing, “It’s recyclable.” They all look around at one another. I’m sure that they are wondering who should start the slow clap for my great discovery, but there is no time for that right now. I shed a tear as I see what they sell a lot of. Meat.

In a glass casing as if it is a prize there are hunks of meat just waiting to be sold. There is even a machine that slices it  into smaller pieces. I feel hurt as I see this awful death slaying machinery being used.

They were once live animals, with homes and family lives.

I slowly walk over as I get myself together. I stand before a hot display of chicken. I kneel and bow my head. ‘Thank you for your sacrifice.’ I say to the brave soldiers before me. “Thank you for giving your lives to those who don’t know to appreciate life.”

“Oh please. Thanks for contributing to my chicken dinner.”

I look up to see someone making a joke out of this.

“What is wrong with you?” I look at this confused man in horror.

Backing away I do what I was taught in elementary school and I walk away. Well, this guy is crazy so I begin to do a light jog instead. I guess there will be crazies no matter where you go.

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