At the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows and no birds ever sing excepting old crows…is the street of the Lifted Lorax.
“… and the pond was still wet and the clouds were still clean.”
” That was long, long ago.. before we heard the last wack! From outside in the fields it was a sickening smack of an axe on a tree. When we heard the tree fall. The very last Truffula Tree of them all.”
“Each day since that day I’ve sat here and worried and worried away. Through the years, while my buildings have fallen apart, I’ve worried about it with all of my heart.”
‘Now that you’re here, the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.
“SO… Catch!” calls the Once-ler. He let’s something fall.
“It’s a Truffula Seed. It’s the last one of them all!
Plant a new Truffula and treat it with care.
Give it clean water.
And feed it fresh air.
Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back.”
So join me this week to give out a call to the Lorax the Swomee’s the Bar-ba-loots and all. We’ll clean up our streets, and plant a few seeds. We’ll take care of our home and the air everyone needs. So stay tuned for ideas, recipes, and tips…I may even throw in some fun field trips.
We may get dirty and perhaps a bit muddy. But fun we will have…so grab a buddy.