"Mother Nature," is something I cannot say aloud without beginning to feel like some sort of mental patient reading to the kindergarten. If I consider this dislike of the expression, I find it's because I'm along side those who might suggest that "Mother Nature" is an ill defined category. The something out there with a mind of its own. An enemy interrupting the desire to build beach houses. An interruption to the flow of commerce. "The damn ship was toppled by typhoon. Sunk to the bottom of the sea with all my gold inside it." As well as the "oh how wonderful" associations often attached to this benighted expression.
It's also the case, unfortunately, that I am not perfect. My own war with
this category, will too regularly include vehement opposition to seasons.
Precipitating a general dislike of members of my own species who claim to like
winter, snow, the hell of falling leaves. Frost on fields. And here
I am very happy to argue that freeze achieves nothing for soil that we organisms
by ourselves cannot achieve. Which is a nonsensical position to take,
worthy only of a political extremist, of whom we have had enough already, and
which requires from me a redefining of "Mother Nature." Perhaps even an
altogether different combination of words, and I think this because saying aloud
the word "Ecology" also makes me feel like some sort of mental patient reading
to the kindergarten. Most definitely I have a few issues and might soon be