Eucalypt
Permanent flux is our world today as ancient orders of human affairs have vanished within living memory. Old certainties of our recent kin are gone.
One hundred years of industrialised war, one hundred million violent deaths, genocides, mushroom clouds, pandemics, global ideologies. Empires of men and spiritual anchors evaporating into a synthetic global order of endless consumption and change.
In our world of 24/7 electronic connection it is as if 1984 has come to pass and like in The Matrix we cannot see what we are immersed in, what controls us, and that we are no longer autonomous. A world of relentless consumption to sooth and distract us from our loss.
Yet around us the natural world continues in its order of life. As if for all our vanities and conceits we are merely a tiny wheel within a wheel. That for all our destruction it will adjust and continue on regardless of our deeds. That it is infinitely greater and unmeasurable than we can conceive.
There are deeper and more enduring matters in the order of life than our tiny concerns. In spring the eucalypt will still blossom.
One hundred years of industrialised war, one hundred million violent deaths, genocides, mushroom clouds, pandemics, global ideologies. Empires of men and spiritual anchors evaporating into a synthetic global order of endless consumption and change.
In our world of 24/7 electronic connection it is as if 1984 has come to pass and like in The Matrix we cannot see what we are immersed in, what controls us, and that we are no longer autonomous. A world of relentless consumption to sooth and distract us from our loss.
Yet around us the natural world continues in its order of life. As if for all our vanities and conceits we are merely a tiny wheel within a wheel. That for all our destruction it will adjust and continue on regardless of our deeds. That it is infinitely greater and unmeasurable than we can conceive.
There are deeper and more enduring matters in the order of life than our tiny concerns. In spring the eucalypt will still blossom.
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Eucalypt
Permanent flux is our world today as ancient orders of human affairs have vanished within living memory. Old certainties of our recent kin are gone.
One hundred years of industrialised war, one hundred million violent deaths, genocides, mushroom clouds, pandemics, global ideologies. Empires of men and spiritual anchors evaporating into a synthetic global order of endless consumption and change.
In our world of 24/7 electronic connection it is as if 1984 has come to pass and like in The Matrix we cannot see what we are immersed in, what controls us, and that we are no longer autonomous. A world of relentless consumption to sooth and distract us from our loss.
Yet around us the natural world continues in its order of life. As if for all our vanities and conceits we are merely a tiny wheel within a wheel. That for all our destruction it will adjust and continue on regardless of our deeds. That it is infinitely greater and unmeasurable than we can conceive.
There are deeper and more enduring matters in the order of life than our tiny concerns. In spring the eucalypt will still blossom.
One hundred years of industrialised war, one hundred million violent deaths, genocides, mushroom clouds, pandemics, global ideologies. Empires of men and spiritual anchors evaporating into a synthetic global order of endless consumption and change.
In our world of 24/7 electronic connection it is as if 1984 has come to pass and like in The Matrix we cannot see what we are immersed in, what controls us, and that we are no longer autonomous. A world of relentless consumption to sooth and distract us from our loss.
Yet around us the natural world continues in its order of life. As if for all our vanities and conceits we are merely a tiny wheel within a wheel. That for all our destruction it will adjust and continue on regardless of our deeds. That it is infinitely greater and unmeasurable than we can conceive.
There are deeper and more enduring matters in the order of life than our tiny concerns. In spring the eucalypt will still blossom.
Ref:
Date:
Location:
Photographer:
THOUGHT
Eucalypt
Permanent flux is our world today as ancient orders of human affairs have vanished within living memory. Old certainties of our recent kin are gone.
One hundred years of industrialised war, one hundred million violent deaths, genocides, mushroom clouds, pandemics, global ideologies. Empires of men and spiritual anchors evaporating into a synthetic global order of endless consumption and change.
In our world of 24/7 electronic connection it is as if 1984 has come to pass and like in The Matrix we cannot see what we are immersed in, what controls us, and that we are no longer autonomous. A world of relentless consumption to sooth and distract us from our loss.
Yet around us the natural world continues in its order of life. As if for all our vanities and conceits we are merely a tiny wheel within a wheel. That for all our destruction it will adjust and continue on regardless of our deeds. That it is infinitely greater and unmeasurable than we can conceive.
There are deeper and more enduring matters in the order of life than our tiny concerns. In spring the eucalypt will still blossom.
One hundred years of industrialised war, one hundred million violent deaths, genocides, mushroom clouds, pandemics, global ideologies. Empires of men and spiritual anchors evaporating into a synthetic global order of endless consumption and change.
In our world of 24/7 electronic connection it is as if 1984 has come to pass and like in The Matrix we cannot see what we are immersed in, what controls us, and that we are no longer autonomous. A world of relentless consumption to sooth and distract us from our loss.
Yet around us the natural world continues in its order of life. As if for all our vanities and conceits we are merely a tiny wheel within a wheel. That for all our destruction it will adjust and continue on regardless of our deeds. That it is infinitely greater and unmeasurable than we can conceive.
There are deeper and more enduring matters in the order of life than our tiny concerns. In spring the eucalypt will still blossom.
