Mouthy by Rick Bailey

  One September day in 1975 I was sitting in a classroom in North Carolina when a woman behind me tapped me on the shoulder. I was new to the...

Re-inhabiting Darkness: A Conversation on Art + Environment with Paul Bogard and Christopher Cokinos

As the third in a series of cross-posts with the University of Arizona's Institute of the Environment's Proximities, features a conversation between environmental writers and contributors Paul Bogard and Christopher Cokinos. Paul: I remember I was up in Quebec at the Mont Megantic National Park, and one of the folks there said to me that closing off our view of the universe isn’t the worst thing we’re doing environmentally, but it is symbolic of the worst things we’re doing...
The Dark of Our Time

Notes Composed in the Dark of Our Time by Priscilla Long

Guest Editorial by Priscilla Long Every day, every 24 hours, dozens of species of plants, insects, birds, and mammals become extinct. Seven out of ten biologists consider that our current massive loss of species (the Sixth Great Extinction) poses a major threat to human existence in the next century. We know what the problem is: Global warming. Pollution. Loss of ecosystems to agriculture and to urbanization. Excessive harvest. Invasive species. There you have it. We know it.

Still an American Dilemma by Lauret Savoy

By Lauret Savoy Not long ago I attended a day of talks given by internationally respected activist-writers working to curb climate change, species loss, and “run-amok capitalism.” A vocal, fairly affluent audience of a few hundred filled the New England village’s lecture hall. Hybrid cars filled the parking lot. I was the only brown-skinned person there.

The World’s Lungs by Elizabeth Dodd

By Elizabeth Dodd In the Amazon basin, you feel you are in the center of everything. You are not, of course. But for a while it feels that way. Wet heat above the rivers, trees lifting the water as high as leaves can reach, samaúma, ceiba, kapok, 300 feet up. All around you, moisture rising: more than half of the rainfall along the Amazon returns to the sky, to turn again, falling—warm rain.

Our Bodies, Our Terrains by Kathryn Miles

By Kathryn Miles My partner and I recently moved into the first floor of a grand old Georgian house. Above us live three beautiful girls and their equally beautiful mom. Together with my dog, Ari, we make an eclectic but happy household. This is not to say that this living arrangement has not been without its struggles.

Stories From the Field: Driving the Truck

By Emma Copley Eisenberg I slept alone in the truck for nearly ninety nights – except for the eleven I slept next to a cowboy made of metal and wire, who held a pistol in each hand, and who I bought on the side of the road outside Amarillo to give my parents for Christmas. I loved the way the bench seat in the cab of the truck slid forward so I could stuff the extras behind my back as I drove. My cowboy boots. My cute jeans. Then, it was more important to me that I be pretty. In a 13,000 square-foot Wrangler store in Cheyenne Wyoming, I bought brown Carhartt work pants in the men’s section. I wore them and I wore light brown aviator sunglasses like Connie Britton’s character on Friday Night Lights. I had the costume. Now, to become the person. To become the person, I drove that 1997 Toyota Tacoma more than ten thousand miles through thirty-two states.