As 2022 ended, most of the nation was literally freezing to death, trapped in blizzards blanketing highways and houses. Here in Maryland, things were not so bad, but record frigid temperatures made Bethesda feel like Bangor, or the Bering Strait.
The Prince of Wales is inspired by John F. Kennedy. As the gala Earthshot Prize awards ceremony at the MGM Music Hall in Boston opens, the Prince echoes Kennedy, saying, “we can restore the planet in a decade.”
An American hero, Florence Merriam Bailey, set off one of the biggest crazes in American history. Birdwatching. Yes. Birdwatching. There are now an estimated 67 million birders throughout the nation, (about 20% of us) a number that continues to grow.
This diverse, talented group included the linchpins of fossil fuel divestment campaigns, the heads of a nationwide movement against herbicides on campus, advocates against the climate injustice of clear-cutting forests to produce wood pellets, and more.
The revelation that the Supreme Court is likely to overturn Roe v. Wade brought me back to the 1990s in the Valley Medical Center in Brownsville, Texas on the U.S.-Mexico border.
I have been trying to write about the glories of spring at least since the crocuses first peeked out at the start of March. Each year, it has become a ritual for me.
War, preparations for it, and the production and maintenance of large arsenals, especially nuclear ones, are among the largest threats to the environment and of global climate change on the planet.
I stood in shirt sleeves and watched a honeybee settle into the bright red and yellow camellia blossom in my Bethesda yard. It was about 63˚F, but it was January 2, not April 2. The next day, temperatures plunged and some eight inches of snow bent my camellia bush to the ground and sent birds scrambling for my snow-laden feeders.
In the nineties, when it was novel, I used to run around shouting about climate change, “It’s not just polar bears and penguins, it’s people, too!”
The showy blossoms are out, shouting for attention. I am dazzled, like those who drive or wander by, getting an aesthetic jolt and then moving on.