It is a rivulet running
Sheltered through the shade
Of some dense pine wood:
Take this cover and it dies
Before it can reach the valley.
I am thinking about this verse today. Noriega is talking about his own language, Galician. Look at these two photographs of Galicia from the air and draw your own conclusions:
On the left you can see native woodland. On the right you can see eucalyptus plantation.
Maybe I am a sentimentalist but I was affected by reading this blog: esmola
Noriega tells us that language is tied to the landscape. Can we repeat this picture around the world. With every hardwood forest that is felled from Papua New Guinea to Brazil, what more is being lost besides the trees? It is not just natural diversity that is destroyed but language, customs and culture.