Gaia

Is the Earth aware? Does it think? Does it desire? What does it desire? What does it think of humans?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Depends. Nothing much.

But some things just are: rocks, natural disasters, entropy, even stars and galaxies. The Earth just is, and its spirit Gaia just is as well. Humans are a part of Gaia, and because humans think, Gaia too thinks. And because humans think randomly, contradictorily and about many things, Gaia too thinks randomly, contradictorily and of many things. Gaia does not wish for anything "deep down"; she knows only who she is and what has happened to herself throughout her existence. She is.

4.5 billion years ago, Gaia was born. Shortly after, she gave birth to her sister/daughter Luna. Until 4 billion years ago she was constantly absorbing large meteors and burned with volcanic fury. 3.5 billion years ago, living things started crawling on her in great numbers. Until about 500 million years ago, the crawlies grew and spread, changing her air and cooling her down, remaking her in garb of green, white and blue, complete with a cloak for her, their mother, to protect her from sister/mother Sol's light.

But it was only about 2 million years ago when Gaia found herself able to think clearly, about herself, about anything. This has been steadily improving ever since.

There is no mistake, Gaia's present self is very different from her past self. And in the future, it will be different again still. Lately, she believes she may have even seen her own death, 7.5 billion years from now. She will slowly relive her life but in reverse, becoming a world of fire again before being eaten by a then swollen and hungry mother Sol. Not that it would matter much, as Gaia knows she would have lost her mind well before then anyway. Thoughts are indeed fleeting. Anything until then is pleasant in comparison.

But she does look so very splendid in blue now.

Partner

Humanity's most successful pact may have been with the grass. But their first, most affectionate and perhaps most equal pact predated it by over five thousand years. This alliance was with the tribe of wolves that humans now call dogs.

The roles in this relationship were not as clearly defined as it was with the grass, for while the humans provided food and shelter, what humans asked of the dogs varied substantially from person to person. Dogs were asked to do everything: to guard against intruders, hunt with them, rescue them, find things for them and surprisingly often to simply be with them.

Over the years, the bond has strengthened. Dogs themselves have assumed many forms, as breeds specializing in every service ever asked of them. Their behavior is attuned to that of the humans as well; they respond more readily and accurately to human body language and commands than any other species.

As the ultimate companion, dogs have earned the title "man's best friend".

Pact

Long ago, a tribe of apes formed an agreement with the tribe of grass. The arrangement was a simple exchange. The grass would give up most of their bodies to feed the apes, who desired a stable source of food. In return, the apes would become their caretakers and champions, waging endless war on the grasses' behalf: against weather, disease, fire, poor soil, natural disaster, other plants, other animals--even amongst themselves. They would apply their ability to analyze and plan, unique in all the tribes, to ensure that grass would grow in every corner of the world, until the end of time.

Ten thousand years have since passed, and this ancient alliance is the cornerstone of the modern world. That tribe of apes now call themselves humans. They number in the billions. They live everywhere on Earth--on land, on sea, and even a few who live above the sky. The tribe of grass has similarly flourished. The beneficiary of human care and terraforming, they grow everywhere the humans live in great quantity. Their names are honored in human language, often synonymous with food and livelihood.

This agreement is not the first the humans have formed, but it is by far the most successful. The greatest pact remains relevant even today--grass still provides well over half of humanity's food. It has shaped and sustained their society. The future of the human and grass tribes are and will be forever intertwined. As the humans turn their attention to lands beyond Earth, grass too will go into the beyond with them. With time and more than a little luck, both human and grass appear set to survive the eventual death of their ancestral home.

Miracle

The soul is an infinite thing. It is an active force and an agent of change. Nature and entropy both kneel before it even as they hate it, for they are merely random, and the soul carries the quality of being deliberate.

Higher beings have a soul as well. Indeed, they have very powerful ones. Yet their "infinity" is of a lesser quality. For to them, sacrifice is necessary for new growth, and new souls are parts broken off existing ones

How then, can such a thing be captured, even for a moment, in such a thing as fleeting and fragile as flesh?

Because of this:

Shakespeare would turn in his grave, for the monkey has typed out Hamlet at long last.

A randomly created yet precise assortment of chemicals that interact in just the right way with the correct raw material to form proteins, creating elaborate self-perpetuating structures of them. These proteins perform functions collectively called life. And somehow this structure of pure luck happens to be able to contain a soul. Or in one configuration, perhaps even create one out of nothing--the human recipe is precise and permits only a very slight variance to keep its effectiveness (about 0.1%). But follow it and somehow the result is a lowly animal of flesh with the birthright of consciousness.

Human souls are essentially made of dirt, yet are bona fide souls nonetheless. Their souls survive the death of its material vessel just the same. And they breed, creating yet more souls from more dirt. All because of a tiny strand barely visible to the human eye.

What else to call this but a miracle?