Letter 1 - March
Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises. - Pedro Calderon de la Barca
Dear reader,
How have you been? What’s the weather like, where you are?
I wouldn’t at all be surprised if you told me that it is terribly hot and getting worse each day.
It’s the same for me. And so when I see some greenery, it makes me happy.
You know what I mean? Sometimes, you see a green so glorious that you want to bathe your eyes in that shade—to immerse your eyeballs in that colour, no matter how impractical it sounds.
There's something cooling, healing and prayerful about that forest green.
I've always been fascinated by colour.
One of my favourite books is On Colour by David Scott Kastan and Stephen Farthing. Among the many things I learned, one of the most fascinating is that even in languages with no specific colour vocabulary, colours are distinguishable because they are tied to experiences. For example, the indigenous people of Bellona, one of the Polynesian Islands, have only three colour categories but distinguish between shades based on context. So there is a red for a root, another for a bird feather, and one for dawn or dusk.
But let’s talk about green. Instead of telling you more about the book, may I ask you to look around you? Greens greet you everywhere. The path you walk on for your daily constitutional, the jogging track in a university close to your house, paddy fields bracketing the road you're on, on your way home.
Look closely, and you'll see the shades. The grass is emerald, the trees verdure, and that newish sculpture has some verdigris. If you are surprised by the verdigris, wait till you see this. We have heard of frogs carrying their young ones, but carrying a mushroom?
Wondrous, isn’t it?
Smaller creatures are often ignored. Yet, look at the astonishing things they can do.
We recently read about how the Palghat Gap works as a natural barrier, separating the red colour semi-slug in the south and the yellow and orange ones in the north of the Gap. We know that the genetic diversity we see in these creatures can also be attributed to the Gap. Mind the Gap, yes?
While on your walk, see if you can spot the small weeds growing out of the sidewalk. Maybe an industrious ladybug, going someplace important. When we start looking, we cannot unsee things, especially because we don’t want to.
Perhaps there really is nothing the mighty creatures of the natural world cannot do—except advocate for themselves. And here’s where humans can step up.
The good news is that steps have been taken in the right direction. This Tamil Nadu Forest Department initiative to prevent elephant deaths makes me hopeful. And it’s not just the animals. It is also for the forests that need our help. Aptly named, the technology in use will help us better understand the treasure trove of biodiversity – the rainforests. And I know you’re thinking about how vital this is. I am, too.
Mycelium Ecology works in the Western Ghats, and this news coming out from Mumbai alarmed us to no end. And while Tamil Nadu has done some beautiful things for conservation, the news that the 321.74 acres identified in Somayampalayam village for a ‘Tech City’ abuts one of the 42 proposed elephant corridors - Mangarai - Thanikandi corridor- identified by the State government appointed Elephant Corridor Committee.
Look around you again, and you’ll see something else—a former tree-laden avenue now bare but broader. A grand old tree has been chopped down for buildings, and whole fields of sunflowers make way for universities—what price progress, we wonder. Don’t you?
We’ll see you in two weeks with another letter. Please write to us, as well?
Warmly,
The team at Mycelium Ecology.