He stands on the bank where forest parts to sunrise on the rich strip of green, and lowers his muzzle to feed. Thick grass pops between his rotating jaws, snapping as he tears into clumps of equally satisfying roots.
environment
The Shining Golden Pig
In this endless summer:
Dripping slabs of watermelon are handed to overheated children, and hailstorms rip through vinyl siding. Continue reading
Migration to ‘TRAPPIST-1’?
Credits (and apologies)to Kim Stanley Robinson. This is his book cover.
“You’re telling me there are seven new human-habitable planets, a mere 40 years away light-speed distance?” She looked at him, eyebrow raised. Continue reading
When Good Bears Go Bad
Smokey sighed and sniffed the shirt front and wide-brimmed hat of the abandoned Park Ranger uniform. It had been dropped near the scenic overview, next to the Michigan-plated Lexus. Betsy likely hadn’t even noticed that her guide had paws, not hands and feet.
An Ounce of Prevention, or Who’s Chasing Whom?
Betsy jogged through the underbrush, pounding her Calphalon saucepan with a designer stainless slotted spoon. The rhythm was irregular, to keep the grizzly ahead in a state of terrified confusion. Continue reading
Worth Preserving
“Enough of that,” he snapped off the television and stepped onto the back porch. Easing into a wooden rocking chair, he cupped his hands around his coffee, Continue reading
All the News That’s Fit to Print
She wrapped her hands around the hand-thrown mug, coffee scent misting the still-cold morning in an exhausted cloud. The metro newspaper lay splayed before her on the kitchen table, moaning headlines and sub-stories of international terror threats, environmental ruin, domestic violence, a floundering economy, and the collapse of another small local non-profit. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 