Hey Everyone!!
Once upon a time, people would sit under a sky full of stars, watching the moon glide slowly across the darkness while cool breezes carried the sound of crickets and night birds. Fireflies blinked like natural fairy lights, and conversations flowed without distractions. Nature wasn’t something to “visit” on a vacation—it was part of everyday life.
But now? The stars have disappeared behind smog and skyscrapers. The moon is rarely noticed. And our faces glow not with moonlight, but with the artificial blue light of screens.
We have traded starlight for screen light.
In this modern world, nature has become a stranger. Morning birdsong is drowned out by traffic. The rustling of trees has been replaced by the hum of air conditioners. Fireflies, once a magical part of summer nights, have nearly vanished from most places. Children today might never even know what a sky full of stars looks like—because they’re too busy staring at phones, tablets, or TVs.
The bond between humans and nature is fading, and with each passing day, it weakens a little more. We’re building concrete jungles while destroying real ones. We know the battery percentage on our phones but not the direction of the wind or the shape of a tree’s leaf. We can recognize logos faster than we can recognize a bird’s call.
This isn’t just sad—it’s dangerous.
Because nature is not just about beauty. It’s about balance, peace, mental health, and survival. Disconnecting from it leaves us hollow. It’s like forgetting our roots and expecting to still grow.
One day, if we keep heading in this direction, the next generation might ask:
“What do you mean people used to watch stars at night?”
“What are fireflies?”
“Did birds really sing in the mornings?”
The truth is, these natural wonders might become stories—like fairy tales. Things that once were, but are no more.
It’s time to rethink what “progress” means. Is it truly progress if it takes us away from the very planet that gives us life?
Let’s not wait for silence to remind us of the birds. Or for total darkness to wish for moonlight.
Let’s put the screens down sometimes and look up. Walk barefoot on grass. Listen, observe, breathe. Reconnect.
Because once the stars are truly gone, and the only light we know is artificial, we’ll realize what we’ve lost—and by then, it may be too late to get it back.
