When Rakotomalala read the text I paired with his photograph, this was his response:
On a toujours besoin de toutes choses même les plus petites. Et vive les petits mondes car ils sont l’espoir de ceux qui pensent être grands. La biodiversité est une grande richesse et notre devoir est de la proteger au maximum. I LOVE NATURE. Thanks.
We need all things, even the littlest. Long live the little worlds because they are the hope of those who think/aspire to be big. Biodiversity is a grand richness and our duty is to protect it to the maximum.
I paired this picture with this text for a number of reasons. One being that the chameleon reminded me of Pinocchio. But really, it is not the chameleon speaking angrily with the voice of Pinocchio here, it’s us.
It’s those of us who throw the apple core in the trash when we could plant it, compost it, or toss it in the backyard for a squirrel to eat. It’s those of us who drive cars for less than noble reasons, leave our personal computers running at night, eat meat every single day, and feel perfectly justified in doing so:
I need to for my job. I work hard, I deserve to be a little wasteful.
Yet Americans are not just a little wasteful. We are extraordinarily wasteful compared to the way we lived even two hundred years ago. If we say we’re not, our noses are growing longer.
Pinocchio is hungry later and there is nothing else to eat. So he ends up eating the apple core and is satisfied.
There have been some improvements in the last few years. We don’t need nearly as much paper now, if we plan right, because we can read papers and maps on mobile screens that require minimal electricity. We are gradually moving to wind and solar — just not fast enough yet.
It’s not always bad to throw things away. It’s just that there’s almost always someone who can use it, and it’s sloppy to throw something away that someone else can use. That’s why we have Y Buys, Goodwill, and the Salvation Army store.
Then there are those things we should have never bought in the first place. I can’t stand looking at a cheap plastic chair breaking down in the sun, plastic dandruff dusting the ground where one day our children might need to plant a garden or an apple tree.
How far will we go before there is nothing else to eat? What will it take to satisfy us? Will we one day eat the core of our own Earth? Will we tap out everything we can?
There is intrinsic value in other creatures, not just in how they can serve us. Even seen in that human-centric light, we can learn from watching them move, from watching the way they live. This chameleon provides a window into another way of being. And even though its grasping hands are used in very different ways than our own most days, we do have a common ancestor. Learning from the little things teaches us about ourselves: our genes, our maladies, our cures, our humanity, our potential.