MY VI E W
by Cormac Collier Executive Director Nantucket Land Council
Never mind that my first round of peas is in the garden, or that I sowed a couple of rows of spinach. For me, the first true sign that spring has arrived is when I hear the first call of peeper frogs.

It's ironic that this season's first encounter was when I was walking to my car after Town Meeting. It was 11:30 on the final night of three. I was tired and spent and wanted to get home and get to bed. It was then that I was rewarded with a vernal chorus that made me smile.

Town Meeting is also an annual ritual - budgets get approved, citizens petition their neighbors for political change, and the future of our island is once again discussed and debated by three percent of our population. Why such a low turnout? Maybe everybody is too busy listening to frogs. Town Meeting brings out the best in our local government and unfortunately it sometimes brings out the worst. Some issues unite us and we can find common ground, while other issues point out just how divisive our community is. I like Town Meeting, it's the purest form of democracy in action. I can't say that I am always pleased with the outcome, but it's the way in which we decide our fate, the manner in which we can voice our concerns, that inspires me about our local government. And as we pack up our bags for another year we can all collectively say that we participated in the dance and shared in the experience.

It is similar to the feeling I got as I walked out to my car. I was not alone in hearing the peepers. I was joined by everyone who was listening, everyone who was paying attention to the song. The symbolism of the peeper means different things to different people, the coming of spring, baseball at Fenway, the reawakening of plants and animals, or the hope for a sunny and warm summer day. These thoughts elicit true and tangible emotions that we all experience on an individual and collective level. It's akin to how the role of weather permeates our daily lives. How many times do you talk about the weather with your family or friends? How many times did you talk about the recent Nor'easter and the howling winds that accompanied it? The weather, like many other external and natural things of this world, symbolizes the shared experience that we have that binds us together as a community.

When a friend told me that Earth Day was this Sunday, I got to thinking about the shared experience of holidays and days set aside for respect, remembrance, or celebration. Is there something in particular about Earth Day that we can all relate to? Or is Earth Day a third rate "special" day, comparable to some of the lesser known holidays such as National Yo Yo day (June 10), or National Clams on the Half Shell Day (March 31)? Many yo yo fanatics and clam lovers will probably take offense at the "third rate" label.

I would say Earth Day is perhaps the one true day that every single person on this planet can embrace. Each of us has a personal and collective relationship with the earth. This includes wolfhowling Earth Firsters, private property rights extremists, and everyone beyond or in between.

Earth Day is still a great big experiment, begun by well-intentioned people and embraced by many, including the 9 to 5 weekend warrior crowd, but ultimately ignored by the masses that have too many day-to-day responsibilities and issues to deal with. My own hesitancy to fully support Earth Day is not that I don't believe in the concept, rather it's my belief that there shouldn't be just one day out of 365 devoted to our planet. Imagine a whole month of Earth Day festivities. Imagine a year in which every day we all say, do, or think something to give thanks to the Earth. Things might be a little different.

I am not asking for some large ideological shift or paradigm change where everyone should think and do what I say. But what I am asking for, or at least hoping for, is a little extra compassion where people evaluate their actions and question how their role impacts the intricate ecological relationships that make up this world. This can be a real shared experience, not just on Earth Day but on many days throughout the year.

So what will I be doing this Sunday? I will give thanks on Sunday, perhaps even a little more than I do on the day when I hear the sound of the peepers, or see the first Osprey return to the island. I might

even plant a bed of lettuce. I