Oxygen And Plants Quotes

You think man can destroy the planet? What intoxicating vanity. Let me tell you about our planet. Earth is four-and-a-half-billion-years-old. There's been life on it for nearly that long, 3.8 billion years. Bacteria first; later the first multicellular life, then the first complex creatures in the sea, on the land. Then finally the great sweeping ages of animals, the amphibians, the dinosaurs, at last the mammals, each one enduring millions on millions of years, great dynasties of creatures rising, flourishing, dying away -- all this against a background of continuous and violent upheaval. Mountain ranges thrust up, eroded away, cometary impacts, volcano eruptions, oceans rising and falling, whole continents moving, an endless, constant, violent change, colliding, buckling to make mountains over millions of years. Earth has survived everything in its time. It will certainly survive us. If all the nuclear weapons in the world went off at once and all the plants, all the animals died and the earth was sizzling hot for a hundred thousand years, life would survive, somewhere: under the soil, frozen in Arctic ice. Sooner or later, when the planet was no longer inhospitable, life would spread again. The evolutionary process would begin again. It might take a few billion years for life to regain its present variety. Of course, it would be very different from what it is now, but the earth would survive our folly, only we would not. If the ozone layer gets thinner, ultraviolet radiation sears the earth, so what? Ultraviolet radiation is good for life. It's powerful energy. It promotes mutation, change. Many forms of life will thrive with more UV radiation. Many others will die out. Do you think this is the first time that's happened? Think about oxygen. Necessary for life now, but oxygen is actually a metabolic poison, a corrosive glass, like fluorine. When oxygen was first produced as a waste product by certain plant cells some three billion years ago, it created a crisis for all other life on earth. Those plants were polluting the environment, exhaling a lethal gas. Earth eventually had an atmosphere incompatible with life. Nevertheless, life on earth took care of itself. In the thinking of the human being a hundred years is a long time. A hundred years ago we didn't have cars, airplanes, computers or vaccines. It was a whole different world, but to the earth, a hundred years is nothing. A million years is nothing. This planet lives and breathes on a much vaster scale. We can't imagine its slow and powerful rhythms, and we haven't got the humility to try. We've been residents here for the blink of an eye. If we're gone tomorrow, the earth will not miss us.

Plant trees. They give us two of the most crucial elements for our survival: oxygen and books.

You don't notice the dead leaving when they really choose to leave you. You're not meant to. At most you feel them as a whisper or the wave of a whisper undulating down. I would compare it to a woman in the back of a lecture hall or theater whom no one notices until she slips out.Then only those near the door themselves, like Grandma Lynn, notice; to the rest it is like an unexplained breeze in a closed room. Grandma Lynn died several years later, but I have yet to see her here. I imagine her tying it on in her heaven, drinking mint juleps with Tennessee Williams and Dean Martin. She'll be here in her own sweet time, I'm sure. If I'm to be honest with you, I still sneak away to watch my family sometimes. I can't help it, and sometimes they still think of me. They can't help it.... It was a suprise to everyone when Lindsey found out she was pregnant...My father dreamed that one day he might teach another child to love ships in bottles. He knew there would be both sadness and joy in it; that it would always hold an echo of me. I would like to tell you that it is beautiful here, that I am, and you will one day be, forever safe. But this heaven is not about safety just as, in its graciousness, it isn't about gritty reality. We have fun. We do things that leave humans stumped and grateful, like Buckley's garden coming up one year, all of its crazy jumble of plants blooming all at once. I did that for my mother who, having stayed, found herself facing the yard again. Marvel was what she did at all the flowers and herbs and budding weeds. Marveling was what she mostly did after she came back- at the twists life took. And my parents gave my leftover possessions to the Goodwill, along with Grandma Lynn's things. They kept sharing when they felt me. Being together, thinking and talking about the dead, became a perfectly normal part of their life. And I listened to my brother, Buckley, as he beat the drums. Ray became Dr. Singh... And he had more and more moments that he chose not to disbelieve. Even if surrounding him were the serious surgeons and scientists who ruled over a world of black and white, he maintained this possibility: that the ushering strangers that sometimes appeared to the dying were not the results of strokes, that he had called Ruth by my name, and that he had, indeed, made love to me. If he ever doubted, he called Ruth. Ruth, who graduated from a closet to a closet-sized studio on the Lower East Side. Ruth, who was still trying to find a way to write down whom she saw and what she had experienced. Ruth, who wanted everyone to believe what she knew: that the dead truly talk to us, that in the air between the living, spirits bob and weave and laugh with us. They are the oxygen we breathe. Now I am in the place I call this wide wide Heaven because it includes all my simplest desires but also the most humble and grand. The word my grandfather uses is comfort. So there are cakes and pillows and colors galore, but underneath this more obvious patchwork quilt are places like a quiet room where you can go and hold someone's hand and not have to say anything. Give no story. Make no claim. Where you can live at the edge of your skin for as long as you wish. This wide wide Heaven is about flathead nails and the soft down of new leaves, wide roller coaster rides and escaped marbles that fall then hang then take you somewhere you could never have imagined in your small-heaven dreams.

They say a man's inspiration is visual, but for a woman, it's the narrative. Abandon both the narrative and the visual. Close your eyes, measure your breath. Dead weight is sloughed off, dust swept away, forms dissolve into one atmosphere. The rib cage opens, the lungs fill, the breast rises. Waves sweep up the body on their swell, rocking it rhythmically. Feet planted, the back arches, the pelvis reaches forward. Oxygen kindles a flame, sprawling through the belly, and gathering in a warm blaze. The hand reaches to meet the sensation. Calligraphy spills from the inkwell. Open your eyes, sharpen your focus, and exclaim: There are no separations.

All the green in the planted world consists of these whole, rounded chloroplasts wending their ways in water. If you analyze a molecule of chlorophyll itself, what you get is one hundred thirty-six atoms of hydrogen, carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen arranged in an exact and complex relationship around a central ring. At the ring's center is a single atom of magnesium. Now: If you remove the atom of magnesium and in its exact place put an atom of iron, you get a molecule of hemoglobin. The iron atom combines with all the other atoms to make red blood, the streaming red dots in the goldfish's tail.

How strange that so few people ever looked up from the spice long enough to wonder at the near-ideal nitrogen-oxygen-CO2 balance being maintained here in the absence of large areas of plant cover.

As far as food is concerned, the great extravagance is not caviar or truffles, but beef, pork and poultry. Some 38 percent of the world's grain crop is now fed to animals, as well as large quantities of soybeans. There are three times as many domestic animals on this planet as there are human beings. The combined weight of the world's 1.28 billion cattle alone exceeds that of the human population. While we look darkly at the number of babies being born in poorer parts of the world, we ignore the over-population of farm animals, to which we ourselves contribute...[t]hat, however, is only part of the damage done by the animals we deliberately breed. The energy intensive factory farming methods of the industrialised nations are responsible for the consumption of huge amounts of fossil fuels. Chemical fertilizers, used to grow the feed crops for cattle in feedlots and pigs and chickens kept indoors in sheds, produce nitrous oxide, another greenhouse gas. Then there is the loss of forests. Everywhere, forest-dwellers, both human and non-human, can be pushed out. Since 1960, 25 percent of the forests of Central America have been cleared for cattle. Once cleared, the poor soils will support grazing for a few years; then the graziers must move on. Shrub takes over the abandoned pasture, but the forest does not return. When the forests are cleared so the cattle can graze, billions of tons of carbon dioxide are released into the atmosphere. Finally, the world's cattle are thought to produce about 20 percent of the methane released into the atmosphere, and methane traps twenty-five times as much heat from the sun as carbon dioxide. Factory farm manure also produces methane because, unlike manured dropped naturally in the fields, it dies not decompose in the presence of oxygen. All of this amounts to a compelling reason...for a plant based diet.

You think this is the first time such a thing has happened? Don’t you know about oxygen?” “I know it’s necessary for life.” “It is now,” Malcolm said. “But oxygen is actually a metabolic poison. It’s a corrosive gas, like fluorine, which is used to etch glass. And when oxygen was first produced as a waste product by certain plant cells—say, around three billion years ago—it created a crisis for all other life on our planet. Those plant cells were polluting the environment with a deadly poison. They were exhaling a lethal gas, and building up its concentration. A planet like Venus has less than one percent oxygen. On earth, the concentration of oxygen was going up rapidly—five, ten, eventually twenty-one percent! Earth had an atmosphere of pure poison! Incompatible with life!” Hammond looked irritated. “So what is your point? That modern pollutants will be incorporated, too?” “No,” Malcolm said. “My point is that life on earth can take care of itself. In the thinking of a human being, a hundred years is a long time. A hundred years ago, we didn’t have cars and airplanes and computers and vaccines.… It was a whole different world. But to the earth, a hundred years is nothing. A million years is nothing. This planet lives and breathes on a much vaster scale. We can’t imagine its slow and powerful rhythms, and we haven’t got the humility to try. We have been residents here for the blink of an eye. If we are gone tomorrow, the earth will not miss us.

That kiss you gave me was the hottest kiss i've ever had. I pulled away because i was afraid i wouldn't be able to stop myself from ripping off your clothes. And that didn't seem like the right way to end a first date. I didn't want you to think that was all i was interested in." She stared at him. There was silence again, but this time she didn't worry about how long it went on. "Why didn't you tell me?" She said finally. "I tried to, but every time i saw you afterward you disappeared. I got the feeling you were avoiding me." "i didn't want things to be awkward." "Yeah, there was nothing awkward about you hiding behind a plant when i came into the dining hall at lunch on wednesday." "I wasn't hiding. I was, um, breathing. You know, oxygen. From the plant. Very oxygenated, that air is." "Of course. I should have thought of that." "It's a healthy thing. Not many people know about it.

Deep breathing at an open window is a wonderful thing unless you live in Los Angeles or down the block from an asbestos plant. Everybody knows that filling your lungs with oxygen is good, but not many people do it. It’s like most of the choices you have in life. You know inside what is right. Whether you do it is up to you.

Much of the oxygen we breathe comes from plants that died long ago. We can give thanks to these ancestors of our present-pay foliage, but we can't give back to them. We can, however, give forward. When we are unable to return the favor, we can pay it forward to someone or something else. Using this approach, we can see ourselves as part of a larger flow of giving and receiving throughout time. Receiving from the past, we can give to the future. When tackling issues such as climate change, the stance of gratitude is a refreshing alternative to guilt or fear as a source of motivation.

I am plant as well as animal. My blood transports oxygen; my chlorophyll produces it. Oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, phosphorus surge along tissue, torso, culm to my blades. Blood blends magnesium as well as iron. I am grass made flesh. Grassling.

How does the living organism avoid decay? The obvious answer is: By eating, drinking, breathing and (in the case of plants) assimilating. The technical term is metabolism. The Greek word () means change or exchange. Exchange of what? Originally the underlying idea is, no doubt, exchange of material. (E.g. the German for metabolism is Stoffwechsel.) That the exchange of material should be the essential thing is absurd. Any atom of nitrogen, oxygen, sulphur, etc., is as good as any other of its kind; what could be gained by exchanging them? For a while in the past our curiosity was silenced by being told that we feed upon energy.

The oxygen at the summit of Mount Everest is the same oxygen that has been delicately knit within your lungs; the elements at the bottom of the ocean are dotted like wildflowers along the surface of your skin. Let this reassure you – at the highest and lowest points of life, you were made to endure. You were made to survive.

Sowing a seed after tasting fruit. Saving oceanic planktons and planting trees after taking oxygen from them. Thus we can maintain the benevolence of give and take policy.

I couldn’t see the end of the corridor, so I stared at the entrance. The ship was a magnificent piece of living technology. Third Fish was a Miri 12, a type of ship closely related to a shrimp. Miri 12s were stable calm creatures with natural exoskeletons that could withstand the harshness of space. They were genetically enhanced to grow three breathing chambers within their bodies. Scientists planted rapidly growing plants within these three enormous rooms that not only produced oxygen from the CO2 directed in from other parts of the ship, but also absorbed benzene, formaldehyde, and trichloroethylene. This was some of the most amazing technology I’d ever read about. Once settled on the ship, I was determined to convince someone to let me see one of these amazing rooms. But at the moment, I wasn’t thinking about the technology of the ship. I was on the threshold now, between home and my future.

the world in silver and copper and iron.” Simon crawled to the edge of the cage. “That doesn’t make any sense. What are you going to eat? How are you going to breathe without plants to make oxygen?

I thought you hated them,” Nine Hibiscus said, dryly. “Was all of that complaining about ecosystem disruption for show, then?” Twenty Cicada looked up at her, and dismissed most of his work holos with the hand that wasn’t petting the small void on his knee. “I do hate them,” he said, smiling. “But this one likes me, and what am I going to do with the things, space them? It’s not their fault they exist.” She came to sit next to him, knee to knee. There always seemed to be more oxygen in one of Twenty Cicada’s garden rooms. (Not seemed: there was. Plant respiration. She’d checked the readouts once. It was a fractional difference, but real.) The Kauraanian pet lifted its head and opened yellow eyes. It made a noise like a badly tuned stringed instrument, stood, paced in a tight circle on Twenty Cicada’s lap, and settled down again. “I didn’t think you’d space them, Swarm,” she said. “But this is cuddling.” “It yowls if I don’t,” Twenty Cicada said, perfectly bland, and Nine Hibiscus laughed.

I can create the O2 easily enough. It takes twenty hours for the MAV fuel plant to fill its 10-liter tank with CO2. The oxygenator can turn it into O2, then the atmospheric regulator will see the O2 content in the Hab is high, and pull it out of the air, storing it in the main O2 tanks. They’ll fill up, so I’ll have to transfer O2 over to the rovers’ tanks and even the space suit tanks as necessary.

The plants are our greatest friends. They give us oxygen to breathe, food, water, shelter, medicine, and even fuel. You may enslave a pet with domesticity, a dog or cat, but eventually when the food runs out, they will be gone, by choice. The plants, however, never leave us. Perhaps that is why they have already begun to reduce carbon dioxide, the gas of life, and sunlight by way of chemical trails in the sky.

A multitude of harlequin lifeforms bobbed and twirled and played in the depths of the Atlantic. Pink cucumbers with thorny backs. Algae. Starfish. Annelids with simple brains and a hundred toes. Sponges—like yellow, swollen hands—sucked in water and pushed out oxygen. Most amusing were the mysterious buggers who had no likeness on the previous earth; tiny beasts with exotic exoskeletons engraved with deep grid-like patterns, snails with horns, and slithering plants that looked like magenta weeping willows.

If men were to colonize the moon or Mars—even with abundant supplies of oxygen, water, and food, as well as adequate protection against heat, cold, and radiation—they would not long retain their humanness, because they would be deprived of those stimuli which only Earth can provide. Similarly, we shall progressively lose our humanness even on Earth if we continue to pour filth into the atmosphere; to befoul soil, lakes, and rivers; to disfigure landscapes with junkpiles; to destroy wild plants and animals that do not contribute to monetary values; and thus transform the globe into an environment alien to our evolutionary past. The quality of human life is inextricably interwoven with the kinds and variety of stimuli man receives from the Earth and the life it harbors, because human nature is shaped biologically and mentally by external nature. (Rene Dubos qtd. in Kaltreider)

After two centuries of colonization, the air struggle on Mars was still so critical that the V-L Law, the Vegetative-Lynch Law, was still in effect. It was a killing offense to endanger or destroy any plant vital to the transformation of Mars’ carbon dioxide atmosphere into an oxygen atmosphere. Even blades of grass were sacred. There was no need to erect KEEP OFF THE GRASS neons. The man who wandered off a path onto a lawn would be instantly shot. The woman who picked a flower would be killed without mercy. Two centuries of sudden death had inspired a reverence for green growing things that almost amounted to a religion. Foyle

Age, that brings a dwindling to most forms of life, is at its most majestic in the trees. I have seen living olives that were planted when Caesar was in Gaul. I remember, in Illinois woods, a burr oak which was bent over as a sapling a hundred years ago, to mark an Indian portage trail, and the thews in that flexed bough were still in the prime of life. Compared to that, the strongest human sinew is feeble and quick to decay. Yet structure in both cases is cellular; life in both is protoplasmic. A tree drinks water as I do, and breathes oxygen. There is the difference that it exhales more oxygen than it consumes, so that it sweetens the air where it grows. It lays the dust and tempers the wind. Even when it is felled, it but enters on a new kind of life. Sawn and seasoned and finished, it lays bare the hidden beauty of its heart, in figures and grains more lovely than the most premeditated design. It is stronger, now, than it was in the living tree, and may bear great strains and take many shapes.

Chloroplasts bear chlorophyll; they give the green world its color, and they carry out the business of photosynthesis. Around the inside perimeter of each gigantic cell trailed a continuous loop of these bright green dots. They spun . . . they pulsed, pressed, and thronged . . . they shone, they swarmed in ever-shifting files around and around the edge of the cell; they wandered, they charged, they milled, raced . . . they flowed and trooped greenly . . . All the green in the planted world consists of these whole, rounded chloroplasts . . . If you analyze a molecule of chlorophyll itself, what you get is one hundred thirty-six atoms of hydrogen, carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen arranged in an exact and complex relationship around a central ring. At the ring’s center is a single atom of magnesium. Now: If you remove the atom of magnesium and in its place put an atom of iron, you get a molecule of hemoglobin. The iron atom combines with all the other atoms to make red blood, the streaming red dots in the goldfish’s tail.

On the surface, their longevity is perplexing and just downright weird. In fact, there are lots of weird things about naked mole rats. (Even their appearance. Go ahead, google it.) They can live without oxygen for up to eighteen minutes, almost never get cancer, and on average live about ten to fifteen times as long as other rodents their size.

Plants are our food, oxygen, and medicine. Some even say they are one of the most pleasurable experiences on earth! From the flowers to the trees and the seas filled with coral dreams; the earth’s natural flora has inspired and enhanced humans for as long as time can tell. That’s why the power of plants is the key to unlocking our enjoyment of life.

Richard Lewontin observes . . . In Cladocera, small fresh-water arthropods, reproduction remains asexual as long as conditions of temperature, oxygen dissolved in the water, food availability, and degree of crowding remain constant. Then, if a sudden change in these conditions occurs . . . the Cladocera switch to sexual reproduction. . . . The organisms are detecting a rate of change of an input, not its absolute value. They are performing mathematical differentiation.22

It is not just the different plants and animals that define the environment. There are all sorts of physical factors as well. Take the atmosphere, for instance. The oxygen levels became usable to us about 400 million years ago, but since then there has been a great variation in the oxygen levels. In the late Jurassic it is possible that the oxygen levels were about 35%, as opposed to 20% at the present day. Indeed this figure has been put forward to explain the survival of the very big dinosaurs, high oxygen concentrations in the breathing air being able to keep the great volumes of tissue oxygenated. On the other hand the proportion of carbon dioxide was also high. This may account for the prolific plant life at the time, carbon dioxide being essential for the good growth of plants. The difference between the composition of the Jurassic atmosphere and that of your own time may make it difficult for you to breathe when you first arrive, but your body will probably adapt to it before long.

By one billion years ago, plants, working cooperatively, had made a stunning change in the environment of the Earth. Green plants generate molecular oxygen. Since the oceans were by now filled with simple green plants, oxygen was becoming a major constituent of the Earth’s atmosphere, altering it irreversibly from its original hydrogen-rich character and ending the epoch of Earth history when the stuff of life was made by nonbiological processes. But oxygen tends to make organic molecules fall to pieces. Despite our fondness for it, it is fundamentally a poison for unprotected organic matter. The transition to an oxidizing atmosphere posed a supreme crisis in the history of life, and a great many organisms, unable to cope with oxygen, perished. A few primitive forms, such as the botulism and tetanus bacilli, manage to survive even today only in oxygen-free environments. The nitrogen in the Earth’s atmosphere is much more chemically inert and therefore much more benign than oxygen. But it, too, is biologically sustained. Thus, 99 percent of the Earth’s atmosphere is of biological origin. The sky is made by life.

If the cultural standing of excrement doesn't convince them, I say that the material itself is as rich as oil and probably more useful. It contains nitrogen and phosphates that can make plants grow and also suck the life from water because its nutrients absorb available oxygen. It can be both food and poison. It can contaminate and cultivate. Millions of people cook with gas made by fermenting it. I tell them that I don't like to call it "waste," when it can be turned into bricks, when it can make roads or jewelry, and when in a dried powdered form known as poudrette it was sniffed like snuff by the grandest ladies of the eighteenth-century French court. Medical men of not too long ago thought stool examination a vital diagnostic tool (London's Wellcome Library holds a 150-year0old engraving of a doctor examining a bedpan and a sarcastic maid asking him if he'd like a fork). They were also fond of prescribing it: excrement could be eaten, drunk, or liberally applied to the skin. Martin Luther was convinced: he reportedly ate a spoonful of his own excrement daily and wrote that he couldn't understand the generosity of a God who freely gave such important and useful remedies.

SOMETIMES LAURENCE ZONED out and imagined walking on another Earth-like planet. The weird gravity. The different mix of oxygen, carbon, and nitrogen in the air. Types of life that might defy our definitions of “plant” or “animal.” More than one moon, maybe more than one sun. His heart could burst, just with the newness of it: digging bare feet into soil that no human toes had ploughed, under a brazen sky that proclaimed all the things we had thought our limits were merely our prejudices. And then he snapped back, to the reality that his team was stuck: no closer to opening up the final frontier than a year earlier.

Higher temperatures means more forest fires means fewer trees means less carbon absorption, means more carbon in the atmosphere, means a hotter planet still—and so on. A warmer planet means more water vapor in the atmosphere, and, water vapor being a greenhouse gas, this brings higher temperatures still—and so on. Warmer oceans can absorb less heat, which means more stays in the air, and contain less oxygen, which is doom for phytoplankton—which does for the ocean what plants do on land, eating carbon and producing oxygen—which leaves us with more carbon, which heats the planet further. And so on. These are the systems climate scientists call “feedbacks”; there are more.

When the rocking stopped Marina tilted her hips back and forth to start it up again. There were layers upon layers of scents inside the hammock—the smell of her own sweat which brought up trace amounts of soap and shampoo; the smell of the hammock itself which was both mildewed and sunbaked with a slight hint of rope; the smell of the boat, gasoline and oil; and the smell of the world outside the boat, the river water and the great factory of leaves pumping oxygen into the atmosphere, the tireless photosynthesis of plants turning sunlight into energy, not that photosynthesis had an odor. Marina inhaled deeply and the scent of the air relaxed her. Brought together, all those

In an extremely short period of geologic time the Earth has been saturated with several billion pounds of nonbiodegradable, often biologically unique pharmaceuticals designed to kill bacteria. Many antibiotics (literally meaning “against life”) do not discriminate in their activity, but kill broad groups of diverse bacteria whenever they are used. The worldwide environmental dumping, over the past 65 years, of such huge quantities of synthetic antibiotics has initiated the most pervasive impacts on the Earth’s bacterial underpinnings since oxygen-generating bacteria supplanted methanogens 2.5 billion years ago. As bacterial researcher Stuart Levy comments . . . It has stimulated evolutionary changes that are unparalleled in recorded biologic history.4

From one perspective, the biosphere can be understood as a complex three-dimensional biofilm that extends from deep in the Earth to the edges of space. That Gaian biofilm continually regulates the environment of the Earth; it is, for instance, what keeps the oxygen content of the atmosphere at 21 percent. Oxygen, a highly reactive gas, will, when left to its own devices, combine with other elements to achieve a stable state, but on this planet, it does not. It was that insight that began James Lovelock’s understanding that the Earth is a self-organized system regulating its own environment. In spite of reductionists’ discomfort, such regulation has been found to occur anytime a living, self- organized system emerges. As Williams and Lenton comment about such systems, “the environment is consistently regulated to habitable conditions, even in the face of severe external perturbations.

Let’s say we had a bad one, and all the plants and animals died, and the earth was clicking hot for a hundred thousand years. Life would survive somewhere—under the soil, or perhaps frozen in Arctic ice. And after all those years, when the planet was no longer inhospitable, life would again spread over the planet. The evolutionary process would begin again. It might take a few billion years for life to regain its present variety. And of course it would be very different from what it is now. But the earth would survive our folly. Life would survive our folly. Only we,” Malcolm said, “think it wouldn’t.” Hammond said, “Well, if the ozone layer gets thinner—” “There will be more ultraviolet radiation reaching the surface. So what?” “Well. It’ll cause skin cancer.” Malcolm shook his head. “Ultraviolet radiation is good for life. It’s powerful energy. It promotes mutation, change. Many forms of life will thrive with more UV radiation.” “And many others will die out,” Hammond said. Malcolm sighed. “You think this is the first time such a thing has happened? Don’t you know about oxygen?” “I know it’s necessary for life.” “It is now,” Malcolm said. “But oxygen is actually a metabolic poison. It’s a corrosive gas, like fluorine, which is used to etch glass. And when oxygen was first produced as a waste product by certain plant cells—say, around three billion years ago—it created a crisis for all other life on our planet. Those plant cells were polluting the environment with a deadly poison. They were exhaling a lethal gas, and building up its concentration. A planet like Venus has less than one percent oxygen. On earth, the concentration of oxygen was going up rapidly—five, ten, eventually twenty-one percent! Earth had an atmosphere of pure poison! Incompatible with life!

In 1969, NASA scientist James Lovelock noticed something unusual happening in the earth’s atmosphere: inexplicably, its balance of oxygen and other gases was regulating itself like a thermostat. But what was doing the regulating? He looked at other planetary processes—including the stable concentration of ocean salinity and the cycling of nutrients—and came to a startling conclusion: the earth is alive. He proposed that the earth is a superorganism—one giant living system that includes not just animals and plants but rocks, gases, and soil—acting together as if the planet was a single living being. Its bodily systems, such as the water cycle and nitrogen cycle, are balanced to maintain life on earth. The throb of the tides was the systole and diastole of the earth, and water coursed like blood through its veins. We proud humans may simply be microbes on the surface of a superbeing whose entirety we cannot fully comprehend. Like the bacteria in our body, is it possible that we, too, are part of a larger living earth, a speck on the eyeball of the universe? Tree roots break the sidewalk. Dandelions spring through the cracks. Insects grow resistant to pesticides

The gorgonians tend to grow in closely packed, branching masses, but they do not fuse to each other; if they did, their morphogenesis would doubtless become a shambles. Theodor, in a series of elegant experiments, has shown that when two individuals of the same species are placed in close contact, the smaller of the two will always begin to disintegrate. It is autodestruction due to lytic mechanisms entirely under the governance of the smaller partner. He is not thrown out, not outgamed, not outgunned; he simply chooses to bow out. It is not necessarily a comfort to know that such things go on in biology, but it is at least an agreeable surprise. The oxygen in the atmosphere is the exhalation of the chloroplasts living in plants (also, for our amazement, in the siphons of giant clams and lesser marine animals). It is a natural tendency for genetically unrelated cells in tissue culture to come together, ignoring species differences, and fuse to form hybrid cells. Inflammation and immunology must indeed be powerfully designed to keep us apart; without such mechanisms, involving considerable effort, we might have developed as a kind of flowing syncytium over the earth, without the morphogenesis of even a flower.

Incredibly, it transpired afterwards that no proper, full fire drill had ever been conducted at the plant. Even the procedure for fighting fire at Chernobyl was almost identical to any other industrial fire, with no regard for the possibility of radiation exposure - so presumptuous were senior figures that nothing could ever go wrong.153 By 6:35am, when all but the blaze within the reactor core were extinguished, 37 fire crews, comprising 186 firemen in 81 engines, had arrived to battle the flames.154 A few brave firefighters even ventured inside Unit 4’s reactor hall itself and poured water straight into the reactor. The radioactivity was so intense that they received a lethal dose in under a minute. As with most other efforts to cool the reactor over the following days, this only made the situation worse. They were pumping water into a nuclear inferno so hot that most water either split into a dangerous hydrogen/oxygen mix or instantly evaporated, while any remaining water flooded the basement. Many firemen fell ill in the process, and were rushed to hospital in Pripyat, though it was not well prepared to deal with radiation sickness. Doctors and nurses were also irradiated because the patients they treated were so contaminated that their own bodies had become radioactive.

You are God. You want to make a forest, something to hold the soil, lock up energy, and give off oxygen. Wouldn’t it be simpler just to rough in a slab of chemicals, a green acre of goo? You are a man, a retired railroad worker who makes replicas as a hobby. You decide to make a replica of one tree, the longleaf pine your great-grandfather planted- just a replica- it doesn’t have to work. How are you going to do it? How long do you think you might live, how good is your glue? For one thing, you are going to have to dig a hole and stick your replica trunk halfway to China if you want the thing to stand up. Because you will have to work fairly big; if your replica is too small, you’ll be unable to handle the slender, three-sided needles, affix them in clusters of three in fascicles, and attach those laden fascicles to flexible twigs. The twigs themselves must be covered by “many silvery-white, fringed, long-spreading scales.” Are your pine cones’ scales “thin, flat, rounded at the apex?” When you loose the lashed copper wire trussing the limbs to the trunk, the whole tree collapses like an umbrella. You are a sculptor. You climb a great ladder; you pour grease all over a growing longleaf pine. Next, you build a hollow cylinder around the entire pine…and pour wet plaster over and inside the pine. Now open the walls, split the plaster, saw down the tree, remove it, discard, and your intricate sculpture is ready: this is the shape of part of the air. You are a chloroplast moving in water heaved one hundred feet above ground. Hydrogen, carbon, oxygen, nitrogen in a ring around magnesium…you are evolution; you have only begun to make trees. You are god- are you tired? Finished?

In Mexico City, air pollution, acid rain, photochemical oxidants and soil erosion have been killing off the city’s plants and trees for decades. The sycamore trees that lined Avenida Reforma in the 1990s all died, and in 2005 thousands of sickly trees in Chapultepec Park had to be cut down due to deterioration from the effects of air pollution. The greatest damage caused by air pollution occurs within the forests that surround the city, especially among the pine tress in the woods of Ajusco and the Desierto de los Leones, two main oxygen sources of the city.

What we have learned about genes has allowed us to understand that we are not so much things merely existing in the world as beings in constant interaction with the world. If you took this idea to an extreme and imagined that you grew up on another planet, the essentially dynamic nature of animal building by genes and environment might mean you'd look very different. Cloned plants that have exactly the same genome can look like very different specimens if planted at different altitudes. In the same way, if you had grown up on a planet with lower gravity or one that was more distant from the sun and had a lower oxygen concentration, you might be incredibly tall, or short, or weedy, or blind...or maybe you'd have a supersized brain. If you took your African ape genome and cultured it on yet another planet, maybe the resulting you would have translucent skin. The point is that although we experience ourselves in some sense as finished or perfected, we are not in any way intended. There is no blueprint for what humans are meant to be. And as this moment is merely one moment in the past and future history of our evolutionary lineage, your life right now is merely an instant in the past and future history of the interaction between your genome and your environment.

Jacob was sitting on Rachel’s lap when they told her, his solid, square little body melting against hers with the divine limpness of a tired toddler. Rachel was breathing in the scent of his hair, her lips against the little dip in the center of his neck. When she had first held Jacob in her arms and pressed her lips to his tender, fragile scalp, it had felt as though she were being brought back to life, like a wilting plant being watered. His new-baby scent had filled her lungs with oxygen. She’d actually felt her spine straighten, as if someone had finally released her from a heavy weight she’d been forced to carry for years. When she’d walked out into the hospital parking lot, she could see color seeping back into the world.

The scientific revolution proved that there are objective, discernible laws of physical  phenomena.  Take gravity, for instance.  You don't exactly have faith in the law of gravity so much as you just know that the law is the law.  Now we are learning that there are objective, discernible laws of non-physical phenomena. These two sets of laws are parallel.  Externally, the universe supports our physical survival.   Photosynthesis in plants and plankton in the ocean produce oxygen, which we need in order to breathe.  Internally the universe also supports our survival.  Emotionally and psychologically the internal equivalent to oxygen, what we need in order to survive, is love.  And human relationships exist to produce love.

A Lady wrote on a Forum "after my body gets old or not and collapses my thoughts which r electrical impulses will cease my body blood etc will melt back into the soil....my last breath which sustains life will go back into the atmosphere so we will be around until our galaxy implodes..." I concur. Who says we die...? I found the epiphany a long time ago that nature is our supreme being and we are going to be here Forever. You die and the grass feeds off your flesh, the cow eats the grass, your children eat the cow and then your children dies and the cycle goes on again. Just as how the carbon dioxide you breathe out is what plants take in and we survive on the oxygen they give out. We are not separate and distinct from nature. We are one. God is a metaphor for the Universe. We are the universe and the universe is in us. It is evident in how the dead meat of an animal or the offspring of a plant gives us life in the form of food then we die and our body deteriorates to fertilize the soil so the plants can survive. The universe is everything. The air that we inhale, the various plants that cures ailments and alleviates various symptoms of diseases. It Should not be cryptic or alien to us to understand how a plant cell completely independent of us can affect our health in such a positive way. That is because the universe is in every one of us.

Fill your office with plants and flowers. Spider plants and plants with hairy leaves absorb air pollutants (such as formaldehyde), produce oxygen, and add color to ease you eyes. Chrysanthemums, azaleas, and Gerbera daisies are similarly helpful.

everything that exists owes its existence to a complex set of relationships that—if you trace the relationships all the way out through space and all the way back in time—ultimately involves everything. As humans, for example, we are utterly dependent upon the parents who conceived us, the plants and animals that daily provide our nourishment, the trees that give us oxygen, the sun that warms the atmosphere, and so on—out through space and back in time. We are constituted by these relationships. This principle applies to everything whatsoever. Nothing is what it is strictly within itself.

Carbon dioxide plus water combined in the presence of light and chlorophyll in the beautiful membrane-bound machinery of life yields sugar and oxygen.

Kevin?” Everyone at the table became startled when Kevin stood up and rushed over to where Iris was glaring daggers at Chris. “I think I’m talking to a ragged, beaten up dog who doesn’t know his place.” “Fucking fox!” Chris raised his clenched right fist, prepared to deliver a savage punch to the pretty female. Before he could, Kevin leapt into the air, his body spinning like a top. “Don’t-touch-my-girlfriend’s-sister Screwdriver!” “What the—GUAG!” Spittle flew from Chris’s mouth as Kevin planted his feet into the inu’s gut, knocking all of the air from the boy’s lungs in one fell swoop. He bent his knees, absorbing the shock of impact, his body parallel with the ground. Kevin then used his impressive leg muscles to push off Chris’s body, launching the inu several feet back where he crashed into a garbage can. For all of one second, time stood still. For all of one second, everyone stared at Kevin in awe. For all of one second, Kevin felt like the most awesome person in the world. Then the second was over. And Kevin landed on his back. On the concrete. Hard. As Kevin’s lungs were deprived of oxygen and his vision exploded with white while pain overloaded his photo-optic receptors, Iris knelt beside his head. “Feeling manly now?” She asked, her lips stretching from ear to ear in a wide grin. Kevin raised a shaky arm and gave Iris a thumbs up. ***

Oxidation burns things gradually and steadily. Just as oxidation causes metal to rust and apple flesh to brown, it damages cells throughout the body by zapping DNA, scarring the walls of arteries, inactivating enzymes, and mangling proteins. Paradoxically, the more oxygen we use, the more we generate reactive oxygen species, so theoretically vigorous physical activities that consume lots of oxygen should accelerate senescence. A related driver of senescence is mitochondrial dysfunction. Mitochondria are the tiny power plants in cells that burn fuel with oxygen to generate energy (ATP). Cells in energy-hungry organs like muscles, the liver, and the brain can have thousands of mitochondria. Because mitochondria have their own DNA, they also play a role in regulating cell function, and they produce proteins that help protect against diseases like diabetes and cancer.29 Mitochondria, however, burn oxygen, creating reactive oxygen species that, unchecked, cause self-inflicted damage. When mitochondria cease to function properly or dwindle in number, they cause senescence and illness.30

When you see a tiny plant, flower or tree in a dark stone street, be happy as if you saw a friend you love very much, and be even happier because this is such a friend that does wonderful things for your existence, it gives you oxygen!

We humans breathe an oxygen-rich atmosphere and respire aerobically all because cyanobacteria somehow came to possess two different photosystems from two different sources.

All of us are radioactive. We, and our environment, exist by virtue of green plants that capture photons, the basic units of light energy - they are produced by thermonuclear fusion within the Sun. Plants use these photons via photosynthesis to separate water into hydrogen and oxygen. The hydrogen is then combined with carbon dioxide from the atmosphere to produce glucose, which the plant burns to produce energy. The oxygen is released into the atmosphere, and we and virtually all other living creatures breathe it. Energy produced by burning glucose is transferred to us when we eat plants, or animals that fee on plants or plant products.

So, in summary, plants use the Gibbs free energy in sunlight to turn water and carbon dioxide into carbohydrates that contain some of the original solar free energy, while releasing oxygen. Animals access the Gibbs free energy trapped in carbohydrates to live and, by so doing, recombine the carbon in the carbohydrates with atmospheric oxygen to emit carbon dioxide and water. Scientists have now accounted for every single transfer of Gibbs free energy in all the chemical processes that occur in plants and animals and overall. A beautiful symmetry is at work here. Plants take in 2,870 kilojoules of solar free energy to make 180 grams of glucose (a typical carbohydrate). An animal that eats 180 grams of glucose releases exactly 2,870 kilojoules of free energy, eventually breathing out carbon dioxide.

I remember the first time I decided to try to put on more Joy. As if Joy was a perfume sample I tried on briefly at the mall and liked so much--how it made me feel to walk into a room smelling like distilled righteousness--that I decided to buy a travel size so I could carry it with me at all times. An easy application for a quick cover-up. a potent enough aroma of pep in my step to cover all manner of bad days. ... The first time I tried to put on Joy like it's something that you wear, it ended up biting me in the backside. Because that's what happens when we try to use Joy to mask, to cover up, but never to actually heal. ... Either way, it's not fooling anyone. And either way, that's not how true Joy works. True Joy doesn't overpower. It doesn't accost someone until we are the only thing they can smell in the room. True Joy is a breath of fresh air. It is a permission to breathe easier. It is an invitation, not a full-scale assault on the senses. It also isn't an overdesigned, overstaged, mass-marketed picture of perfection. To me, true Joy is like a tree planted by the water. It gives more oxygen than it takes. It provides shade and shelter to those who want to come and sit by it for a while. It is a welcome place of belonging. A much-needed respite for the weary. A place to come and rest their tired souls. ... (reference to Jeremiah 17:8)... Joy was never only for those found laughing in a field of flowers. It is also for anyone who finds themselves weeping in the thickest part of the weeds. Joy doesn't mean the drought won't come and the storms won't rage. It just means that when they do, you'll know where you're planted. You'll know what it is you're anchored to.

Brain entrainment: Neurofeedback (NFB) Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) Brain Computer Interface (BCI) Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy (HBOT) Floatation Tanks (REST) Reduced Environmental Stimulation Therapy Nootropics: Caffeine Nicotine Lion’s Mane mushroom Adderall Ritalin Modafinil Brahmi Winter Cherry (Ashwagandha) “Qualia Mind” a proprietary blend Ginkgo Biloba Maca root Yerba Mate Green Tea Aniracetam Phosphatidylserine Plant Medicines & Psychedelics: Ketamine LSD Psilocybin Iboga MDMA

This plant on my desk, he gives out a little oxygen. He gives out a little green grow. But he demands much, sunlight, water, I don’t know what else. But he expects it. He is my most demanding friend I let be. ~

The cyanobacteria, a group of photosynthetic bacteria tinted blue-green by chlorophyll and other pigments, harvest sunlight and fix CO2 much like eukaryotic algae and land plants. However, when hydrogen sulfide (H2S, well known for its “rotten egg” smell) is present, many cyanobacteria use this gas rather than water to supply the electrons needed for photosynthesis. Sulfur and sulfate are formed as by-products, but oxygen is not.

The fact that changed my life was that somewhere between fifty and seventy percent of the oxygen in the Earth’s atmosphere comes from the sea. I had always thought that the forests and the trees and plants around us were responsible for the air we breathe, but they are only a bit player in the oxygen cycle upon which life on this planet depends.

Like any ecosystem, a modern economy cannot survive without recycling. Just as animals and plants are continually recycling the oxygen and carbon dioxide that the other provides, so too must workers recycle their wages by spending them in shops and businesses recycle their revenues by spending them on salaries if both are to survive. And just as in our ecosystems, in which a failure of recycling leads to desertification, so when recycling breaks down in the economy we end up with a crisis that results in devastating poverty and deprivation.

Hate is a living thing, a seed to be planted and watered. If adequately nourished, it blooms and grows. When the conditions are just right, it acts like an invasive species and takes over, obliterating the original plants, blocking their sunlight and oxygen. Starving them. Until they die.

Whenever she could take the time from the English department, Celia would garden. At first she would resist, but then once she was down and dirty, perhaps because of the oxygen coming from the plants themselves, perhaps because she was dealing with the fecundity of the underworld and all its roots and thus the etymology of bloom, perhaps because it made her look forward with such radiant hope- she didn't know what it was, but once she started digging and planting she could not get herself to go back to the house until the light was gone. Most of the time she saw her garden as shaggy with wanting, weeds overgrown with their own delight. Occasionally, though, small corners of terrain or even single plants seemed to approach some ethereal ideal, as when one day a friend had left on her front porch an immense dahlia of impossible color, a sort of smoky rose gold, aureate.

From Alice Walker: I think I am telling you that the animals of the planet are in desperate peril and that they are fully aware of this. No less than human beings are doing in all parts of the world, they are seeking sanctuary. But I am also telling you that we are connected to them as least as intimately as we are connected to trees. Without plant life human beings could not breathe. Plants produce oxygen. Without free animal life, I believe we will lose the spiritual equivalent of oxygen. “Magic,” intuition, sheer astonishment at the forms the Universe devises in which to express life-itself- will no longer be able to breathe in us. One day it occurred to me that if all the birds died, as they might well do, eventually, from the poisonings of their air, water, and food, it would be next to impossible to describe to our children the wonder of their flight. But what I am also sharing with you is this thought- the Universe responds. What you ask of it, it gives. I realize now that I did not understand prayer; which I know now to be the active affirmation in the physical world do our inseparableness from the divine; and everything, especially the physical world, is divine. War will stop when we no longer praise it, or give it any attention at all. Peace will come where it is sincerely invited. Love will overflow every sanctuary given it. Truth will grow where the fertilizer that nourishes it is also truth…Knock and the door shall be opened. Ask and you shall receive. Whatsoever you do to the least of these, you do also unto me- and to yourself. For we are one. “God” answers prayers. Which is another way of saying, “the Universe responds.” We are indeed the world. Only if we have reason to fear what is in our own hearts need we fear for the planet. Teach yourself peace. Pass it on.

That is a very common misconception, even in the scientific community, except for people who specialize in biology. On Earth today, plants such as trees do generate substantial amounts of free oxygen. However, single-celled organisms utilizing photosynthesis converted Earth's atmosphere billions of years ago, from an anaerobic state, to a state saturated with free oxygen. This was long before the appearance of any land plants; the buildup of free oxygen was delayed by minerals on the surface, such as iron, absorbing the free oxygen until the mineral base became saturated. At that point, we think the free oxygen reduced the amount of methane in Earth's atmosphere. Methane is a powerful greenhouse gas, so falling methane levels triggered Earth's first ice age. That may be what happened

The Kratky method has no moving parts. It requires no electricity (so long as natural light can be provided), and it is the most inexpensive system to build and run. ✓    The Kratky method is achieved by hanging plants in net pots above a nutrient solution. As the plants drain the solu- tion, more room for oxygen is created to provide plenty of air to the roots. ✓    Since there are no moving parts and little maintenance, the Kratky method can be thought of as a “set it and forget it” approach to gardening.

This leaf is life,” he says very seriously. “It is the one and only link between the earth and the sun; every second it is taking light and creating the nutrients our bodies need to survive. It takes toxins from the air to give us clean oxygen to breathe. It supplies us with medicine to heal our bodies. Even when humans numbered in the tens of billions, this leaf—our plant life—made up over ninety-nine percent of the earth’s living creatures. All of life depends on them. They were here long before us and they will be here long after we’re gone.

Oxygen comprises 21% of the Earth’s atmosphere. If oxygen were 25%, fires would erupt spontaneously. If it were 15%, human beings would suffocate.17 •​If the carbon dioxide level in our atmosphere were higher than it is now, a runaway greenhouse effect would develop. We would all burn up. If the level were lower, plants would not be able to maintain efficient photosynthesis. We would all suffocate.18 •​If the centrifugal force of planetary movements did not precisely match the gravitational forces, nothing could be held in orbit around the sun.19 •​If Jupiter were not in its current orbit, the Earth would be bombarded with space material. Jupiter’s gravitational field acts like a cosmic vacuum cleaner attracting asteroids and comets that might otherwise strike the Earth.20 •​If the rotation of the Earth took longer than 24 hours, temperature differences would be too great between night and day. If the period were shorter, atmospheric wind velocities would be too great.21 •​If the twenty-three-degree axis tilt of the Earth were altered slightly, surface temperatures would be too extreme.22 •​If the moon’s gravitational pull on the Earth were much greater, tidal effects on the oceans, atmosphere, and the Earth’s rotational period would be too severe for life. If it were less, orbital changes would cause climatic instabilities which would prohibit life.23

Arteries carry oxygen-rich blood away from the heart to the body’s organs, while veins return blood to the heart to receive oxygen again.

The Spirit of the Circulatory System The Sun guides the circulatory system. And just as the Sun is the center and warms each orbiting planet, the heart is our center, pumping blood, oxygen, and warmth to each organ. The Sun, the heart, and the circulatory system remind us to center ourselves and be present in our power, changing the focus from others to ourselves.

How strange that so few people ever looked up from the spice long enough to wonder at the near-ideal nitrogen-oxygen-CO2 balance being maintained here in the absence of large areas of plant cover. The energy sphere of the planet is there to see and understand—a relentless process, but a process nonetheless. There is a gap in it? Then something occupies that gap. Science is made up of so many things that appear obvious after they are explained. I knew the little maker was there, deep in the sand, long before I ever saw it.

In Brazil, the rainforests of the Amazon are being destroyed at an alarming rate by bulldozing and burning. There are many excellent reasons to prevent this continuing – loss of habitat for organisms, production of carbon dioxide from burning trees, destruction of the culture of native Indian tribes, and so on. What is not a good reason, though, is the phrase that is almost inevitably trotted out, to the effect that the rainforests are the ‘lungs of the planet’. The image here is that the ‘civilized’ regions – that is, the industrialized ones – are net producers of carbon dioxide. The pristine rainforest, in contrast, produces a gentle but enormous oxygen breeze, while absorbing the excess carbon dioxide produced by all those nasty people with cars. It must do, surely? A forest is full of plants, and plants produce oxygen. No, they don’t. The net oxygen production of a rainforest is, on average, zero. Trees produce carbon dioxide at night, when they are not photosynthesizing. They lock up oxygen and carbon into sugars, yes – but when they die, they rot, and release carbon dioxide. Forests can indirectly remove carbon dioxide by removing carbon and locking it up as coal or peat, and by releasing oxygen into the atmosphere. Ironically, that’s where a lot of the human production of carbon dioxide comes from – we dig it up and burn it again, using up the same amount of oxygen. If the theory that oil is the remains of plants from the carboniferous period is true, then our cars are burning up carbon that was once laid down by plants. Even if an alternative theory, growing in popularity, is true, and oil was produced by bacteria, then the problem remains the same. Either way, if you burn a rainforest you add a one-off surplus of carbon dioxide to the atmosphere, but you do not also reduce the Earth’s capacity to generate new oxygen. If you want to reduce atmospheric carbon dioxide permanently, and not just cut short-term emissions, the best bet is to build up a big library at home, locking carbon into paper, or put plenty of asphalt on roads. These don’t sound like ‘green’ activities, but they are. You can cycle on the roads if it makes you feel better.

Our current cosmic address is a small flying piece of rubble travelling through an endless black void, surrounded inexplicably by seven other pieces of flying rubble. All of these pieces harmoniously rotate around the same giant fireball without ever crashing into each other, or hurtling themselves into said fireball. And if that isn’t random enough, out of all those pieces of rubble ours is the only one that sustains an environment that gives life to billions of different life forms, including a multitude of flowering plants and oxygen-giving trees, a plethora of wildlife, and eight billion human beings. And somehow, you still genuinely think that magic does not exist, that fairytales aren’t real, that the way people find each other at just the right time at just the right moment isn’t the most powerful sorcery.

Modern doctors have also noted that cancers set in where there has been a trauma from a blow, bruise, or chaffing years before. They also understand that many cancers prefer to grow in an oxygen-depleted, stagnant, venous blood supply. This gives us a great tip to the treatment of cancer. Herbalists have followed up on this hint, but doctors have not. They do not understand the thinking behind traditional medicine, which attempts to treat general conditions of hot and cold, excess and deficiency, etc., rather than specific pathological lesions and entities.

Why did you kiss me?” His smile drops, but the intimacy in his stare only brightens. He hovers over me, planting his hands on either side of my head and caging me in. This… this is the only cage I want to be in. “There’s a place in the ocean, so deep, where not a single point of light penetrates through it. And for so long, I’ve been trapped there, unable to breathe. When I met you, you lifted me out of that darkness, and it was the first time I came up for air. You’ve become my oxygen, bella ladra, and I can no longer breathe without you.

Our earth is the life-giving force for every living being, and life in it is derived from the energy generated from the invaluable elements of nature. The most important element among these invaluable elements is "Soil" which is the most indispensable component of our environment and from this the major energy of life is discharged. We place more emphasis on planting trees in the concept of keeping the environment safe and pure, but do not give much ponderability to the protection of the Soil that nourishes these trees. The proper nutrition of every seed is completely dependent on the fertilizing capacity of the Soil and the seeds which provide us fruits, flowers, oxygen etc., without which our lives and other living beings are not presumable. Soil mainly conducts the life of all beings including human beings, as well as the land of our earth is the most vital source of power, the most preciosity resource of our earth. Conserving the Soil is our utmost accountability so that in the coming times our environment can be made even more preferential. Without Soil no one life and isomorphism of our nature is not possible, since every living being is dependent on Soil itself; Soil is our complement and we are completely envolved with Soil. "Conservation of the Soil is the protection of lives, then save the Soil, save the lives.

Media are not just pipes or channels. Media theory has something both ecological and existential to say. Media are more than the audiovisual and print institutions that strive to fill our empty seconds with programming and advertising stimulus; they are our condition, our fate, and our challenge. Without means there is no life. We are mediated by our bodies; by our dependence on oxygen; by the ancient history of life written into each of our cells; by upright posture, sexual pair bonding, and the domestication of plants and animals; by calendar-making and astronomy; by the printing press, the green revolution, and the Internet. We are not only surrounded by the history-rich artifacts of applied intelligence; we also are such artifacts. Culture is part of our natural history.

Carbon dioxide plus water combined in the presence of light and chlorophyll in the beautiful membrane-bound machinery of life yields sugar and oxygen. Photosynthesis, in other words, in which air, light, and water are combined out of nothingness into sweet morsels of sugar—the stuff of redwoods and daffodils and corn. Straw spun to gold, water turned to wine, photosynthesis is the link between the inorganic realm and the living world, making the inanimate live. At the same time it gives us oxygen. Plants give us food and breath. Here is the second stanza, the same as the first, but recited backward: Sugar combined with oxygen in the beautiful membrane-bound machinery of life called the mitochondria yields us right back where we began—carbon dioxide and water. Respiration—the source of energy that lets us farm and dance and speak. The breath of plants gives life to animals and the breath of animals gives life to plants. My breath is your breath, your breath is mine. It’s the great poem of give and take, of reciprocity that animates the world. Isn’t that a story worth telling? Only when people understand the symbiotic relationships that sustain them can they become people of corn, capable of gratitude and reciprocity. The very facts of the world are a poem.

Me: Fails at something trivial boss: You should carry a plant around to replace the oxygen you waste.

Maybe plants are actually farming humans, and they give us oxygen until we die just to turn us into fertilizer, thought another customer.

molecules assume a little V shape. A central oxygen atom links to two hydrogen atoms arranged like Mickey Mouse’s ears. The hydrogen side of the molecule carries a positive electrical charge, while the oxygen side is negatively charged, yielding a “polar” molecule. Many of water’s most distinctive properties—its ability to dissolve table salt and numerous other chemicals, the ease of forming raindrops, the hardness of ice, capillary action in the stems of plants, and much more—arise from this polarity. The dielectric constant is a measure of the strength of that positive-negative charge separation, which dictates water’s behavior.

those trying times for alligators, entire species of plants shifted place in the Everglades. Alligators are ecosystem engineers. But we don’t know the entire extent of their influence. If alligators ever faced extirpation or, worse, extinction, there was no telling what would happen to their habitats—and our planet—without them. Jeff’s grand-scheme purpose there was to make sure that we would never find out. So he carried this thought with him: He was saving the alligators—along with the sparrows, the panthers, the burrowing owls, the bears—and the constellation of this hopeful act stretched out from that little patch of plain and swamp into everywhere the water flowed, all the people who drank it, all the plants that sucked it up through their roots, all the oxygen that they exhaled—a little thing in the grand scheme could mean the entire world. He was saving the darkness, too, the enormity of the sky only possible because people like Jeff guarded the land from destructive human hands, keeping the channels of possibility open for the primordial wonder we feel, our smallness, our place in the universe, when we look into the stars.

The first animals arose in our oxygenated ocean hundreds of millions of years before plants evolved on the continents.

We are mortals, and we must help. Plants are living organisms that play a vital role in the global ecosystem. They provide us with food, oxygen, and shelter. They also help to regulate the climate and support wildlife.

When we have the impression that we're all alone and nobody supports us, we can remember that it's only a perception. It's not accurate. Think of a tree standing outside right now. The tree is supporting us with beauty, freshness, and oxygen for us to breathe. That kind of support is also a kind of love. The fresh air outside, the plants that feed us, and the water that flows over our hands from the tap all support. There are many ways that people can support us and love us without actually saying, "I love you." You may know people who have never said, "I love you," but you know they love you. When I was ordained as a novice monk, I had a teacher who I knew loved me deeply, but he never said, "I love you." That is the traditional way. If one pronounced the words, "I love you," it seemed that some of the sacredness was lost. Sometimes we feel very grateful, but we want to express our gratefulness in ways other than simply saying, "thank you." Look for the many ways people communicate their love without saying it. Maybe, like the tree, they are supporting you in other ways.

Can the trees and flowers which we see all around us at all times have themselves formed such perfect systems as to bring about a phenomenon such as photosynthesis, some parts of which are still not fully understood, in their own bodies? Did plants choose to use carbon dioxide (CO2), of the gases in the air, to produce food? Did they themselves determine the amount of CO2 they would use? Could plants have designed those mechanisms which make up the root system and which enable them to take the materials necessary for photosynthesis from the soil? Did plants bring about a transport system where different types of tubes are used for transporting nutrients and water? As ever, defenders of the theory of evolution searching for an answer 16 The solar energy trapped by the chlorophyll in the leaf, carbon-dioxide in the air, and water in the plant go through various processes and are used to produce glucose and oxygen. These complex processes do not take place in a factory, but in special structures like those in the leaf in the picture, and which measure only one thousandth of a millimeter across. Sunlight Chlorophyll Glucose 6H2O Water Light Chlorophyll Carbon dioxide + Water Glucose + Oxygen 6CO2 Carbon dioxide 6O2 Oxygen C6 H12O 6 to the question of how plants emerged have resorted to "chance" as their only re m e d y. They have claimed that from one species of plant which came about by chance, an infinite variety of plants have emerged, again by chance, and that features such as smell, taste, and colour, particular to each species, again came about by chance. But they have been unable to give any scientific proof of these claims. Evolutionists explain moss turning into a strawberry plant, or a poplar, or a rose bush, by saying that conditions brought about by chance differentiated them. Whereas when just one plant cell is observed, a system so complex will be seen as could not have come about by minute changes over time. This complex system and other mechanisms in plants definitively disprove the coincidence scenarios put forward as evolutionist logic. In this situation just one result emerges.

We might be excused our ignorance in this case, because ocean-atmosphere systems are, after all, almost inconceivably complex. Less easy to excuse is our astounding lack of knowledge of much more visible features of our planet’s natural resources and ecology—features that have a direct impact on our well-being. For instance, we know surprisingly little about the state of the planet’s soils. While we have good information for some areas, like the Great Plains of the United States, soil data are sketchy for vast tracts of Africa, Asia, and Latin America, where billions of people depend directly on agriculture for survival. So we can’t accurately judge how badly we’ve degraded these soils through overuse and poor husbandry, though we do have patchy evidence that the damage is severe and getting worse in many places.18 Similarly, despite extensive satellite photography, our estimates of the rate and extent of tropical deforestation are rudimentary. We know even less about the natural ecology and species diversity inside these forests, where biologists presume most animal and plant species live. As a result, credible figures on the number of Earth’s species range from 5 to 30 million.19 And when it comes to broader questions—questions of how all these components of the planet’s ecology fit together; how they interact to produce Earth’s grand cycles of energy, carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and sulfur; and how we’re perturbing these components and cycles—we find a deep and pervasive lack of knowledge, with unknown unknowns everywhere. Our ignorance, for all practical purposes, knows no bounds.

Dr. Joff Silberg and Dr. Carrie Masiello are a husband-and-wife team of professors at Rice University. He is a synthetic biologist. She is a geologist. But somehow they managed to move past that and find love. Dr. Masiello studies biochar, which is made when plant matter gets baked at a high temperature in the absence of oxygen. The creation of biochar sequesters carbon that would otherwise end up back in the atmosphere, and it is frequently added to soil to increase plant growth. We don’t know precisely why it helps plant growth, but it may be that it alters the composition of microbes in the soil. Dr. Masiello wanted bacteria that could report back to her on what conditions were like for microbes living in soil with and without biochar. She asked Dr. Silberg to make her a synthetic microbe for Valentine’s Day. Yes, really. Dr. Silberg created bacteria that release gases that aren’t commonly found in soil. So by putting the synthetic microbes in soil, then monitoring the gas release, we can “eavesdrop” on microbe behavior instead of grinding them up for analysis.

Second, a huge part of plankton is made up of plants or other organisms that have chlorophyll and produce their own food. As a side effect of this process, the oceans produce 50 percent of the oxygen in the earth’s atmosphere, 95 percent of which comes from phytoplankton and 5 percent from bigger algae (kelp and seaweed) or the few marine vascular plants that live near shore.

Nature grows where the atmosphere is conducive – a bit of oxygen, soil, moisture and we see plants growing. Even between the stones. Exactly the same way, if we are happy and honest to ourselves, our creative glands gets activated and soon we get the astonishing solution to our challenges.

If you think of our planet as a living, breathing organism, the forests are the lungs. They create a perfect balance to our own respiratory process by absorbing millions of tons of CO2 into the soil and exhaling oxygen into the air, exactly what is needed to maintain equilibrium of animal life with plant life and create the livable atmosphere we all enjoy. However, we are losing this integral part of our ecosystem on a massive scale, and it is largely due to the persistence of meat centered diets.

Imagine a day when all plants and trees go on a strike, a bandh just for a day. All of us will die for want of oxygen.” Reading this, I was instantly reminded of Bolivia’s recent legislation (in December 2010) to grant all nature equal rights as humans. Justice William O. Douglas, writing against a 1972 decision by the United States Supreme Court, wrote, “Inanimate objects are sometimes parties in litigation ... So it should be as respects valleys, alpine meadows, rivers, lakes, estuaries, beaches, ridges, groves of trees, swampland, or even air that feels the destructive pressures of modern technology and modern life ... The voice of the inanimate object, therefore, should not be stilled.

The core of the global bioplan is a simple idea. If every person on Earth planted one tree per year for the next six years, we would stop climate change in its tracks. The addition of those wonderful molecular machines, which pull carbon from our atmosphere, fix it in wood and bubble out oxygen in return, would halt the rise in global temperature and return it to a manageable level. Three hundred million years ago, trees took an environment with a toxic load of carbon and turned it into something that could sustain human life. They can do it again.

Step 1: Capture the free energy in sunlight. Sunlight is an abundant source of free energy. The chlorophyll molecule in the leaves of plants uses this to unburn water—in other words, to split the H2O molecule into its constituent parts of hydrogen and oxygen. The oxygen is released into the atmosphere, leaving hydrogen, on its own, within the leaves. Isolated hydrogen, of this kind, is itself now a source of free energy because it needs to rebond with oxygen or anything chemically similar to oxygen.

Using the Gibbs free energy stored in ATP, plants unburn carbon dioxide. In a series of choreographed chemical reactions, the free energy in each ATP molecule is released and used to split the carbon and oxygen in atmospheric carbon dioxide and repackage them into molecules known as carbohydrates. This is known as “fixing” carbon and it has two main purposes. First, carbohydrates provide building block materials such as cellulose, which give the plant structure. Second, making carbohydrates doesn’t use up all the energy stored in the ATP. The unused energy is, in effect, transferred into the carbohydrate molecules. They are also chemical springs. This means that carbohydrates themselves become temporary stores of free energy, which can then be used to fuel plant growth and all the other chemical reactions a plant needs to live. This second step in photosynthesis, when the free energy in isolated hydrogen is used to fix carbon, is called the dark reaction.

This is what makes animals such as us possible. From a Gibbs free energy perspective, we’re plants that run backward. When we eat plants or eat other animals that eat plants, we’re ingesting chemicals such as carbohydrates that plants have created and turned into rich stores of Gibbs free energy. In a precise reversal of the dark reactions in photosynthesis, animal cells release the free energy stored in carbohydrates and use it to make their own ATP molecules. These fuel many of the chemical processes that take place in animal cells, enabling them to live. At the end of this process, the carbon that the plants fixed from atmospheric carbon dioxide is reunited with oxygen and breathed out again as carbon dioxide.

This is the famous cycle of life. Carbon dioxide breathed out by animals is absorbed by plants, which make food and oxygen and so on. The cycle needs a constant supply of Gibbs free energy to turn. And crucially, at each step of the cycle, a small amount of free energy is lost as heat. This means at each step the entropy of the universe goes up.

Photosynthesis, the activity that ultimately makes all life possible, permits plants to trap energy from the sun and store it in the form of glucose, or sugar, for their growth. To make one molecule of sugar requires six molecules of water and six of carbon dioxide, taken from the air. When these are combined with the energy from the sun’s light, glucose is formed - to be stored within the plant - and oxygen and carbon dioxide are released into the air. As

We know a great deal more than the Greeks did about the forces of life. But with all our knowledge, no one fully comprehends the miraculous process, known as photosynthesis, by which trees and other green plants use energy from the sun to transform elements into food for themselves at the same time that they release oxygen into the atmosphere. Photosynthesis makes life on Earth possible, and it is the most important function performed by green plants of all kinds.

The substance of a tree is carbon and where did that come from? That comes from the air; it’s carbon dioxide from the air. People look at trees and they think it [the substance of the tree] comes out of the ground; plants grow out of the ground. But if you ask “where does the substance come from” you find out … the trees come out of the air … the carbon dioxide and the air goes into the tree and it changes it, kicking out the oxygen.… We know that the oxygen and carbon [in carbon dioxide] stick together very tight … how does the tree manage to undo that so easily? … It is the sunlight that comes down and knocks this oxygen away from the carbon … leaving the carbon, and water, to make the substance of the tree! RICHARD FEYNMAN