I just saw two blue herons fly super low over our house, which means they've been fishing in the creek behind us, which means there's fish there. Which means there's bugs to feed the fish and algae to feed the bugs, which means the water and soil is worth something damnit.

The hopelessness, the lack of community, the lack of connection to the natural world, it’s all an illusion.

Migratory birds still use the bayous, drainage ditches and culverts. Moss and lichens grow in the margins between cement. You’ll find fish and turtles in a puddle in a cement culvert. You’ll find pocket prairies struggling to get established in utility easements and empty lots and medians. There are lizards and snakes in the non-native landscaping.

Hopelessness is a tool. If people keep saying it’s dead then you won’t look and if you don’t look, then you can’t build empathy with the natural world around you and you won’t be motivated to heal its wounds and steward its growth. If they keep your eyes on the death and misery, then you won’t see all the life and joy there is to protect.

There are grackles, seagulls, raccoons, possums, and coyotes, all thriving in urban and suburban environments. They’re not vermin, they’re our neighbors. They, too, are worth protecting and they’re everywhere if you look.

And the thing is, it is bad. A lot of these areas are heavily compromised and nothing is being done. A lot of them need tremendous amounts of work to be in a healthful and balanced state. But, when there is so much damage, when there’s so little effort being taken, that’s an opportunity. How little effort you’ll have to put in to make an incredible difference. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll be worlds better than it was, and that will matter to your neighbors, the fish, frogs and birds.