ONE MORE SIP

Metal is a cold material, but not an insensitive one.
Whenever I touch the ground, on the hottest days, I feel the earth beating, shivering; I feel there’s something wrong.
I am not a doctor, nor a nurse. I’m a water bottle. A simple liquid keeper. I live in a world full of objects, but despite the widespread obsession of humans for them, I don’t feel I am that relevant.

Finding water inside plastic bottles is easy, no doubt about it. However, I have to say that I often spot trash on the ground or by the streets. Recycling that trash, trust me, won’t be easy at all.
I should feel proud, I should tell myself that I play an important role in contrasting the diffusion of those hardly recyclable waste materials. My deepest emotion, however, is fear.

I fear those plastic balls could compromise natural habitats someday. I’m afraid that water could no longer glide cold on my metal walls.
The face of a polar bear, Wonnie, is printed on me. Every day I wonder if Wonnie’s future is bright, as fresh as the Biellese forests close to which he grew up. What if it’s not like this? What if those valleys weren’t wet by rivers someday?
I know what you’re thinking, ‘don’t be negative’. But I serve humans who watch the news, I can assure you that sometimes my spout gets paralyzed because of tension. Floods, landslides, unusual climate events…our planet is living an era of changes we cannot ignore.

I would keep the whole water, if only I could. But then I see human lips coming, with their will to get fresh and wipe away the thirst…how could I say no?
The secret is not declining, rather whispering.
One more sip.
Just one sip, then stop. Then we’re back trying to figure out how to save the world.
It’s not easy, I know it, but it’s a mission we can approach. In which each of us can play an active role.
Let’s try, then. In the following weeks we’ll try to figure this out together.
One more sip, the last one.
Here we go then.