I am a fan of historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose Letters From an American newsletter invariably helps put the events we're living through in historical context. Richardson wrote to her subscribers on March 4 that she encourages people who feel helpless to change the direction of our future that we can do so by "changing … Continue reading The Historian and the President–Please Read and Watch…
Tiny lizards inspired biologist Thor Hanson to write a book: "Hurricane Lizards and Plastic Squids." I heard him speak in yet another fascinating Alan Alda Clear&Vivid podcast. Hanson’s book, Alda says, is about “the ways plants and animals are responding as we humans are messing with their lives.”
The pounding in my head has been almost unbearable. Sporadic, fortunately, but I shudder from its power, reaching for a way to steady myself. Immediately following, moments of relative quiet, then the incessant buzzing—for seconds…then minutes…to an hour at a time. Our neighborhood is in the throes of a necessary but painful clearing of old trees. My mind doesn’t doubt the validity of the decision. My gut and heart feel otherwise.
And why should we care? If curiosity and learning for learning’s sake aren’t enough, I found this story suggestive of the sweep of history and millipedes’—and our—places within it. Please accompany me on this creepy-crawly journey that, despite the overly ambitious topic, I’ve tried to keep mercifully brief.
I’m sorry to do this to you—I really am. Haven’t we had enough stories about being careful during this damn pandemic? But I think you’ll want to consider the implications of this one... Apparently, the Covid throwaway detritus—the single-use gloves (often latex) and face masks (usually with rubber strings and made of polypropylene, a thermoplastic fabric)—has been identified as an “emerging threat” to animals.
Oh, the irony! This is the week that my husband and I were scheduled to be in Alaska. The purpose of the cruise on a small ship was to learn from expert lecturers and see firsthand the devastation of climate change on the animals and environment. We felt a sense of urgency to make this trip while the locale was still viable. Obviously, the trip was cancelled due to COVID-19. We were supposed to meet the tour guide and group in Seattle, where the air quality a few days ago was rated the third worst in the world. In the scheme of things, I’m certainly not complaining about our lost vacation. We are safe in our home. But in the larger sense…
Lately, I’ve been thinking about my carbon footprint. It began when I wrote a quick little poem about a portion of President Trump’s beloved wall being blown down by a heavy wind, which you can read here.
One of the comments I received was from blogger Willedare, whose lovely posts at amusicallifeonplanetearth invariably bolster my spirits. Will combines recordings of his songs, research and anecdotal history about the composers, beautiful photos, and interesting insights. Well worth visiting—and revisiting.
Here’s how Will raised my consciousness:
I know, I know. It’s the “Hysterical Doomsaying Scientists” vs the “What’s Wrong With These People? Don’t They Care About Their Grandkids?” folks. How can we ever find common ground? I’ve just discovered someone who’s devoting her life to that effort, and I’ll introduce her to you shortly...
One big change among climate scientists fairly recently is that they have better tools than previously, enabling them to speak more definitively about the association between some dramatic, never-before-seen events and climate change...
Hurricanes, cyclones, and typhoons today, they find, are bigger, wetter, and faster-moving than they used to be. Climate change isn’t hovering somewhere in the not-too-distant future. We’re living with it now.
Today, April 22, is Earth Day. Above is a photo of my favorite T-shirt, with a message that is always worth a reminder, 365 days a year--unless it's Leap Year. [Note to my darling daughters: you should in no way assume this is directed at you!]
Cat and dog parable, pet stories,