Dear Earth, I trusted them.

I trusted the scientists. If they discovered our house was burning, I thought they would scream ‘fire! fire!’ until we were all out and safe.

I trusted the media. I thought they would make the climate crisis front page news until we acted to save their children. I thought they would tell the truth.

I trusted the governments. It’s their job to look after us. If they knew we were killing ourselves, I thought they would take away our razor blades.

Some people have been screaming. A doctor went on a hunger strike. Did you hear about him? 116 environmental activists were assassinated in 2014. People have been screaming for decades.

And most of us have been like me – cosseted in my thick fleece of denial. I forgive myself. Without that protection I feel hopeless, deeply sad, frustrated, frightened and overwhelmed. Of course I looked away. Of course I left it to others.

Without my fleece I realise that I can’t rely on them to save us. I am them. I have eyes and a brain, and can read the reports from the IPCC and make up my own mind. I can write these love letters to you, dear Earth, and ask people to share them. I can sit on the road and risk imprisonment. I can grieve, and not hide my tears.

Will it be enough? Will it be enough, beloved Earth, or is it too late for our civilisation? Am I contributing to the denial if I write a happy ending to this letter to you? Would I be joining those I cannot trust?

It is already too late. I don’t know whether we can survive. And here I am, writing to you as dawn breaks over the valley. The red streaks on the horizon gently fade into violet, tangerine, baby blue. There are birds still singing. Later I will eat and walk and pray and laugh.

How can I scream what I now know in my heart, and keep on living?

You are burning, dear Earth. I must.

Love, Satya <3