May we always remember: there is no planet B.

Cut one tree and you lose shade for a season. Cut a forest and you lose rain for a generation.

The smallest seed you plant today may outlive you by two hundred years. Few acts of love are that patient.

There is no version of tomorrow worth having if it comes without birdsong, without green, without clean rivers to sit beside.

The earth forgives slowly and remembers everything — every forest cleared, every river poisoned, every promise broken.