Yesterday, I came home from an idyllic day at the beach on Boston’s North Shore and read this article arguing that Miami is doomed to drown under rising tides caused by climate change.
I don’t know how to reconcile the beauty of the ocean that I saw and felt and smelled firsthand with the threat lurking in the waves. I know the nature is powerful and not always pretty. I know that nature has a dark side, unexpected swells of anger, storms that beat water violently against rocks. But this is something different.
This is something human-caused, unprecedented, potentially future-destroying–and something that too many Americans, and far too many of our lawmakers, refuse to believe is happening.
And so, I am trying to make sense of the fact that the same water that I love, fed by melting glaciers and icecaps, is coming for us. That the beach, where land meets water meets sky, is our next battlefield.
The beach, more than almost anywhere else, feels like home. At the beach, I am the happiest version of myself.