Flowers wilt and nature shrinks in the shadow of human nature
Year 11, Mount Aspiring College
NATURE creates light.
Perfectly carved, limpid water guards the island’s perimeter.
Sun beams puncture my body as the silent hum of life blankets me. The intricate stitching, so subtle yet warm to the touch.
I keep walking down the endless path of untouched sand while it shrivels beneath my feet, individual grains settling between my toes.
I turn to a line of overripe homes, brittle at the edges and bound to the shore.
Crops border the flowers and palms, coating the inland.
The sky, paved red as its reflection, is hung out to dry over the horizon.
The sunlight of the day drifted into a deep sleep.
Shadows feast on the remaining light.
SONYA PALMER Year 13, Mount Aspiring College
OUR environment is on the verge of collapse. Isn’t this the truth?
Some of the greatest developments of the past 50 years — technology with its social media, mass communication, accessible information and artificial intelligence — have stripped us of our sense of connectedness and belonging.
The top 1% of the wealthy owned 82% of the globally-generated income last year. That’s equivalent to 42 of the world’s richest people — 9 out of 10 being men by the way — owning more than the poorest 50% of people worldwide, who are barely able to scrape together enough to eat.
Where did we go wrong?
As a person living in 2018, with a few years still up my sleeve, I
The pinnacles of their teeth wrenching into the beams, ripping them to shreds as a lion does of its prey.
Kids are out kicking a football, running on minimal sleep and poor education.
Bonfires fizzle all around without an artificial glow in sight.
A staircase crafted by mother nature herself leads me to the peak of an amateur mountain where all that sight brings me is salt water filling empty space.
Three hundred and sixty degrees of the skyline collides with the vast sea below it.
Human nature creates shadows.
As I step off the rocky boat, the stench of petrol consumes me.
People hang like puppets for richer foreigners, guarding the island where the waves used to be.
The shops shield the reality of the island, imprisoning the unaesthetic housing and local areas. Crowds of tourists plug the streets. Resorts portray a fake, carefree lifestyle, catfishing tourists one by one.
I can taste the salt as it drifts out of the foam perched above the murky folds of water.
Trash is now embedded in the beach’s DNA, forever within the stitching of the sandy quilt.
Children hide in the centre of the island giving mercy to the newcomers stealing their beach.
The pounding thuds of the mosque are masked by raucous music.
Flowers wilt towards the soil where little life remains. Their roots trailing around broken windows and dented roofs.
Broadway lights fog over the street markets, causing a concentrated flood of the fluorescent tide.
Every shard of this island that once captured the businessmen and women has been destroyed by them, fed off greed or aspiration of fortune, popularity and purpose.
Everything is made within ourselves.
Humans have become amazing at slaughtering people and landscapes.
Mother nature created something beautiful but with every light there is a shadow.