(The word human comes from the Latin word humus, meaning soil.)
Once you till a plot of soil and place your hands in it, planting seeds and hoping for growth that can only happen by another hand, you have become intimately committed to that place, and if you harm it or leave it, an important part of you will die. From the soil we come, by the soil we live, and to the soil we will return. We are human; of the humus.
Modern man has perfected the absurd illusion of destroying the soil, perverting what comes from it, and pretending he can exist apart from it. The results speak for themselves.