‘How can we begin to move towards ecological and cultural sustainability if we cannot even imagine what the path feels like? If we can’t imagine the generosity of geese?’ – Robin Wall Kimmerer
The future welcomed back our animal friends. We cut light pollution by dimming our lights during migration season, and saw flocks of birds and endangered bats return. Glass buildings were covered with stickers or protective netting to reduce bird strikes. We built them dovecoates and pollinator gardens, we stopped using Raid and Round-up on a local level. The food chain saw a bloom in biomass as everyone now had enough to eat, we woke up to new bird songs we had never heard before. The animals had much to teach us, language we had almost forgotten.
Pet lovers found companionship with each other, a rainbow bridge bedecked with pet collars provided a physical place to grieve lost pets, donate bowls and toys, build community. Nobody grieved alone after losing a family member.
Public transportation accepted animal riders at specific times, allowing an interconnected web of commuters to reach their destination with furry friend in tow. With fewer cars on the road, roadkill numbers dropped, and wildlife corridors were built as bridges between the animal and human worlds. Children could see stars and foxes in their own city neighborhoods again.
Animal rights increased as well. Factory farming became a relic of the past, and while there were still a few people who ate meat, we no longer hurt animals for profit on a commercial scale. It wasn’t perfect, and even in the future we still have a lot of learning to do. But we made amends with our animal friends, and advocated for a future where urban planning now carefully includes the voice of the buffalo, the heron, the salmon, the bee. It is only when we can hear the language of other being are we capable of understanding the generosity of the earth, and learn to give our own gifts in return.