Happy World Environment Day
I didn’t know there was a World Environment Day, but, hey, we certainly need one these days! Enjoy it!
Read MoreMarching on Washington
So I’m getting ready to travel down to Washington, DC for the Women’s March, and my mother is shaking her head. “Why are you going to all this trouble?” she inquired. “What good will it do? Trump’s not going to run in terror when he sees you girls coming, you know.” I rolled my eyes, but you know, she kind of had a point. “Why am I doing this?” I asked myself frequently during the seven-hour drive on crowded highways. “What’s the point?” I sighed as I checked into the overpriced motel. “Is it worth it?” I asked as I jammed myself onto a subway car packed like a sardine tin, the...
Read MoreSolstice: Tracking the Sun
Photographer Bill Bailey explains: “It is a pinhole photo I made by putting a piece of photographic enlarging paper in a soft drink can with a pinhole.”
Read MoreYellowstone Hot Springs: Extremophiles
It’s the weirdest thing I ever saw. A hole in the ground, filled with water. The most beautiful crystal clear water, turquoise and lovely as a swimming pool. It looks cool and inviting—but it’s hot. Incredibly, insanely hot. This clear water is steaming and bubbling with the heat from molten rock surging up from the earth’s core. Yellowstone National Park is dotted with these bizarre holes in the ground. Geysers and hot springs and pools. Old Faithful, of course, the reliably spectacular geyser, but also a host of pools and puddles, some no bigger than a good-sized kitchen sink. And they...
Read MoreBirch Forest: The Lungs of the Earth
The sub-alpine birch forest, in Abisko National Park in the northernmost part of Sweden, above the Arctic Circle. Last fall, I happened to visit at a rare time of sunshine, and in the low rays of the autumn light the leaves were pure gold.
Read MorePrickly Pear: Handle With Care
Prickly pear cactus. A quiet, well-behaved plant, as house-plants go. These guys have been living meekly in their pots for more than twenty years—just getting taller and taller. They’re in an upstairs room, and I keep forgetting to water them, and every six months or so I go upstairs with a watering pot, fully expecting to find shriveled corpses. But prickly pear is a plant that’s hard to kill. This spring, I decided to take pity on the poor things and let them enjoy a pleasant summer soaking up the sun on the front porch. As I maneuvered one of the lanky plants down the stairs and out...
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