RE: we should be having parades about the fact that clean water comes out of the sink
more of a well brewed contemplation, rather than a response.
i think it is indeed amazing.
but not at all magical, or worth celebrating. i think a lot about the human tendency to intensify and compress things until they burst, destroying not only themselves but everything around them.
i miss wells. i miss how special and sacred, yet mundane, those places were. in every courtyard. near fields or houses. on the outskirts. a place to meet others and chat. the water-cooler talks before water coolers.
i still remember the taste of that water. my grandmother had a well in the front yard, beneath an old walnut tree with gigantic leaves. i have never tasted anything like it again. clear and soft. incredibly cold in the middle of a summer heatwave. almost sweet.
the mechanism for pulling up a bucket was quite new. a rotating wheel with a long chain. it went so deep that you could not see the bucket touch the water. only hear the echoing sound.
as a child, i was always mesmerised by how much effort it took to get fresh water. i was happy every time my uncle or grandmother did it. the last time i visited the farm, the well was closed and the walnut tree had been cut down. only some debris remained alongside the tall grass.
i do not think we have to celebrate clean water from the tap. but i think we should at least acknowledge how immense the leap humanity has taken in the last three centuries, and be equally terrified and thankful.
do not forget the actual fire stove when you cook, and the wood that had to grow and be collected. do not forget the well as you pour water from the tap. do not forget that everything you eat comes from the earth and was nurtured by sun and time.
this is magical. this is worth celebrating.
the same wheat growing in the same fields through centuries of human history. the same rivers flowing through the same towns, carrying a myriad of boats.
not the comfort of the five-second-wait until your tap water turns cold.