Dead Mars, Dying Earth

Authors:
Dr. John E. Brandenburg & Monica Rix Paxson

We know there was once life on Mars: We have found the evidence in meteorites.
So the question is, how alive was Mars and how did it die?

What could the demise of Mars reveal about the future of our own planet, Earth?

In this compelling account, scientist John E Brandenburg, Ph.D. and Monica Rix Paxon reveal the deadly connection between the two planets.

Dead Mars, Dying Earth is the remarkable true story of scientific discoveries that have consequences for the entire human race, present and future. Detailing three decades of Martian exploration – from the first pictures sent back by Mariner 9 to the discovery of Martian microfossils – the authors show how the facts about Mars expose the danger that our own planet is in. We are on course for global disaster; unless we take immediate action our own planet may suffer a similar fate to Mars.

Through global warming, the thinning of the ozone layer and our continued use of fossil fuels, we are reversing the process that first made human life possible on Earth and that once nurtured life on Mars. We have set ourselves on course for extinction, but we can certainly slow the process down. And we may even be able to reverse it completely by adhering to the suggested strategy outlined in this book.

Blending scientific reason with human passion, Dead Mars, Dying Earth calls us to take immediate responsibility for the world in which we live.

Posted with kind permission of Dr John E. Brandenburg

My Story

Oupa Teddy from Scotland, Pippa, Piet and Poppie (handmade by Pam)









I arrived
I saw
I travelled the seas
By boat
South Africa
A teddy bear
A wicker chair
Highland dancing
School
Work
Money
Car
Draughtswoman
Mat-Hand
Married
Baby
Move to Johannesburg
Baby two
More work
Children boarding school
Patchwork
Pottery
New job

Now I spin
Now I write
I look forward to Table Mountain

I will travel
I will weave with the yarn that I spin
I will write regularly
I will do pottery again
I will laugh
I will dance
I will age but my spirit will never die.


'lil Pam
1 March 2005

Who Am I ?

Who am I ?
Which mask do I wear?
Who is the real me?

With all the masks I wear,
I can no longer tell.
Then I realize -
I am no longer me.

Too many masks,
Swapped too many times.

I really need to know –

Who is that little person,
Hidden deep down inside of me?

Flora 24 April 2006

SPEAK TO ME

Speak to me
Of days gone by
When we would walk the fields

Gone are the days
When we roamed free
In a state of peace and tranquility



What have we now -
It is but a jail
In the battlefield called Earth

Onward we go
Battling each day
Trying to preserve our sanity.

The terror slices
At my very core
I need to know it is not in vain.

PT April 2007

Photograph courtesy Stuart Thomson

....................................................

Are you Thinking Green

Eclectic Green was started to link to an environmental magazine that is with the designers as I write. Our aim is to raise awareness of the plight of the Planet and to promote 'Green Thinking'.

Please leave comments....

Please forward this link to your friends who may be interested
http://eclecticgreen.blogspot.com/

Let us know what You think.

Questionnaire:
Please click Above to to participate in our market research

Question yourself:
What have you done to help improve the environment?
• Changed to Compact Fluorescent light bulbs
• Stopped buying bottled water
• Started a Car Pool
• Using environmentally friendly laundry soap and cleaners
• Recycle your waste products weekly/monthly
• Started a compost pile / worm farm
• Unplug electrical appliances at work or home when not in us


German Proverb:
To change and to change for the better are two different things.

WESTERFORD HIGH SCHOOL 1970 MATRICS

WESTERFORD HIGH SCHOOL
MATRICS 1970








Does this look familiar?
Anyone interested in a 2010 Reunion can drop me a line pam.thomson@tiscali.co.za



Those interested to date:
Pam Thomson (Watt)
Bruce Phillips
Roy Alger
Jenny Nolan (Andrews)

Dexter's Lesson

I sit in the garden, watching Dexter climb in and out of the old dried out plants with not a care in his world. Maybe he heard the rustle of a field mouse and decided to explore. I would be too scared – it could be a spider or even worse, a snake!

He climbs over the old tree stump which is kept together only by the disintegrating outer bark. The inside of the stump is just a powder of broken-down bark and tree dust. Sad. This dust used to be the core of the tree.

Could this be a symbol of what I am now, as I sit in this garden, full of despair?

Is this the platform from which I must launch myself to embark on the journey of finding my ‘Authentic Self”, my Inner Child, - my ‘Mini Me’?

Dexter has moved onto another part of the garden now, still looking, still investigating. I wonder what he has found?

He struts off to another part of the garden, lies down to rest and basks in the rays of the sun. He lies a while and then he is off again, leaving the old stump and the dried out plants and wanders to another part of the garden, the part of the garden where the grass is green and plants survive.

He comes bounding back and lies down beside me, his story told.

Is this his lesson?
Is this why this little dog came so inexplicably into my life?

What if I am that old decrepit wasted tree stump? My core in tatters, like dust.

Old bark holding the ashes of my core together. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The time has come. I must transform myself and let the Phoenix rise again.

Dexter moves onto another part of the garden, still looking, still investigating.
I wonder what he has found?

Has he found the secret to life and has he, in his own little way, played out this scene to show me what it is all about.?

Pam
7th August 2005

Poem to Dexter

You came into our lives one day
Enriching our lives like never before
You were only three weeks old
Found discarded in a rubbish bin

We didn’t think you’d make it
But you proved us all wrong
Your strong spirit prevailed
As you wove your way into our lives

At first you looked like a tiny bat
On that dark, wet, freezing cold day
Your life blood flowed
And you grew stronger day by day

Your playful antics keep us on our toes
You are a little dog who gives us your all
We love you little Dexter
You are the epitome of Joy


Pam
March 2005

Sunset Beach

I walk along the beach
On broken shells
On the wet and dry sand
On a seaweed laden shore.

Waves rolling like white horses
Dashing to and fro
Rolling crashing receding
Intoxicating all that is near.

Reflecting light
From a shimmering setting sun
A golden ball slips
Lower and lower.

It hovers like a kite in flight
Then suddenly it is gone
It dips away and leaves behind
A sky of pink and blue

The dusk sets in as the clouds float by
The sky takes on the colours
From the light of the fading sun.
The colours dissipate.

It leaves behind an inky sky
The sun is gone ‘til the morrow
Blackness leads you back to the shore
The light celebration over for the night.

All that is now left
Is the a deserted beach
Waves still rolling like white horses
In the dark of the night.

Reality kicks in, dull and bleak
It is now a dark winter’s night
Clutching you in it’s unwelcome cold.
Edging you back home.

Back in your bed
You lie in the black inkiness of night
Your dreams hover over you
Then sweep you into the warm rose tinted light.

Out of the reality of the darkness
Dreams envelop, guiding you on
To the warm honey coloured images
Of the other life.

Escaping reality of your internal clock
It ticking freeing and guiding you
To the light of a timeless setting
Of the other life.

Dance and song all fill the air
Birds twitter, music fills the air.
Free from the darkness of the bleary night
Entangled in laughter and light.

Pam 16 July 2005

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler,

Long I stood and looked down one as far as I could -

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other,

As just as fair and having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step has trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

                                                                                                                - Robert Frost