Rachel Carson and the Ocean

The ocean of which Rachel Carson wrote is not the ocean of today.

I’m Nobody! Who are you?

It is eerily still, like the small town without birds or sounds in the opening fable of Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring”, as self-isolation sweeps across the nation, along with the corona virus. Big crowds and the incessant visibility of celebrities, sports figures, politicians and the powerful have ceased.

Spring is Like A Perhaps Hand and Whistler’s Mother

It is an early spring. It has been for some time. Spring this year, thanks to global warming, has been tentative, slowly opening in February, buds and small flowers peeking out a window cautiously, as if a sudden freeze could still nip them in the bud.

The Winter of Our Discontent?

My mood elevates, despite the automotive din, as a few chickadees and titmice arrive to greet me from nearby branches.

Where the Eagles Soared: Are We Losing Our Land and Our History?

I have roamed the Eastern Shore many times with other memories stretching back to the time when Caryn and I, long involved with African American history and civil rights, were happy to find a lone historical marker about Frederick Douglass in St. Michaels.

The Environment and Impeachment?

As soon as Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, Nancy Pelosi announced the initiation of an impeachment inquiry into the actions of President Donald Trump, the RCC signed on in support of a pro-impeachment rally.