A Quiet Guardian of the Garden — A Story of Respect, Help & Survival
A Quiet Guardian of the Garden — A Story of Respect, Help & Survival
In the quiet hours of dusk, in the soft brush of shadows under your leaves and vegetables, there may appear a small creature—timid, unassuming—yet quietly doing the work you rarely see. If you ever find me in your garden, let me tell you who I am and why I beg for your trust.
I eat raw meat without salt, ground beef, chicken nuggets or canned meat, but not fish. Please don’t give me milk—it gives me stomach problems, and I might die of dehydration because once I drink milk I cannot stop myself. I am naive and I trust easily. I am
I roam your garden at night or at dawn, hunting silently. Insects devour your vegetables, snails eat your seedlings, pesticides kill the beneficial beings you need. Yet I am here, a natural ally. According to garden‑ecology research, many creatures that at first glance might seem a “pest” are in fact
When you set traps or spray poisons, you harm not just my kind, but the entire balance your plants rely on. I ask you:
Because you see, my species is disappearing. In some places of Europe, the common hedgehog, for example, is listed as
If you allow me into your garden, I will return the favour: I will eat the insects that chew your vegetables. I will live quietly under log piles or stone borders. I will keep to myself—always respectful of your presence.
Look into my dark eyes in the fading light. I ask you: be kind, let me stay, let me live. Because your garden will flourish, and I will have a safe place. You might not hear a “thank you” in words, but I will leave behind fewer pests, healthier plants, and the gentle reminder that all life—even the small, timid ones—deserve a chance. 🌿
— Your garden helper, hoping you will understand.
THE HAUNTING STORY OF THE STARVING POLAR BEAR THAT WOKE UP THE WORLD
A Ghost in the North
On Canada’s Baffin Island, a once-mighty 1,000-pound polar bear drags its weakened body across the barren land. Its white fur hangs in tatters, muscles wasted by long starvation. Captured by National Geographic photographer Paul Nicklen, the footage shows a majestic apex predator reduced to a desperate scavenger—a haunting, heart-wrenching glimpse into the devastating impact of climate change.
“When you see something like that, it breaks something inside you,” Nicklen said, recalling the first moment he spotted the bear. At first, it looked like a stray white blanket caught on the rocks. Then it moved. It was alive—but barely.
The Reality of Climate Change
Polar bears depend on sea ice to hunt seals, their primary food. As the Arctic warms, ice melts earlier in spring and refreezes later in winter, leaving bears trapped on land without access to sustenance. Unlike grizzlies, polar bears cannot survive on berries or plants. Starvation becomes inevitable.
Nicklen’s post on Instagram was simple, yet gut-punching: “This is what starvation looks like… This is what climate change looks like.” Millions watched, shared, and mourned. Suddenly, melting ice caps were no longer abstract numbers—they were the hollow eyes of a dying bear.
A Warning for Humanity
Some argued that this bear might have been sick or old, but Nicklen’s point was larger: this bear represents the fate of its species. Scientists warn that the global population of polar bears—around 26,000 today—could decline by 30% by 2050. The Arctic’s king is disappearing before our eyes, a living alarm for the planet.
This haunting footage forces us to confront a sobering question: if we stand by as the King of the Arctic wastes away, what does that say about us? Every click, every share, every tear counts. It’s a call to action—for our planet, and for the creatures who cannot speak for themselves.
