GREEN RIBBONS FOR CHILDREN'S FUTURE

 Yesterday, I mustered my energy and participated in Provincetown's March for Climate Change and recognition of the current CO2 summit in Paris.

We arrived early at the UU church on Commercial Street. I worried that the turnout would be small and ineffectual, unusual for me as I carry hope in my heart despite the dire predictions. Like children peeking in a store window, some people began to tentatively approach the meeting place. Whereas others didn't hesitate to walk toward us, boundless energy bursting--all ages; a human menagerie. Some participants carried signs, others wore hats or garlands of green leaves.

The cold temperature, around 37 degrees--not counting the blustery wind skirting across the flat, hooked appendage and the northernmost-point of Cape Cod--forced marchers to bundle up against the chill. But we carried our banners, posters and green ribbons to show our solidarity.

Among the diverse collection of marchers, were teenagers; young adults who waved their banners and cheered on the procession, giving me hope that the Cape's youth will continue the cause.

What were they/we fighting for? Within one generation, Nauset Beach--as scientists have predicted--will have eroded to the point of no return. Liams, an Orleans seafood shack on the border between the parking lot and the beach, will have disappeared. My childhood oasis and others' will become "dust in the wind." Scattered fresh-water ponds will change to saltwater via the encroaching sea; health concerns will rise significantly as pollutants from Boston, surrounding states increase. (For specs, please refer to The Cape Cod Times' special section  Cape Cod Times on Climate Change )

And if a motley band of politicians, entertainers, writers, small business people and environmental activists can remind those who have no regard for our cause why stemming climate change is imperative, then I foresee a small victory for our beloved Cape Cod and a better future for residents, young and old.

Below are more pics from our march, Sunday afternoon:

Our fearless leader!

State Representative Sarah Peake and I.

Musicians led the way.

Two spirited activists.

The end of the March but not our deep passion for the cause.

PARIS: JE T'ADORE

Dedicated to the people of France:

The first time I went to Europe, age 15, I'd saved money which my parents matched to take a whirlwind student tour. I have two unfortunate memories during our visit to Paris. My fellow travelers' first priority centered on visiting McDonald's, as other countries we'd been to didn't offer the fast food whereas I chose not to go, for which I received my peers' censure. Secondly, I ruined a roll of film by opening my Pentax 35mm camera to change rolls in what I'd hoped would be a darkened space, the cupboard--large enough for me to enter and close as there were no closets--in our hotel room. Needless to say I ruined the film that contained pics of France. A happy jaunt to L'Tour Eifel and Museé de Louvre, sans I.M. Pei's pyramid, helped ease the disappointment.

Years later, after college graduation, my friend, Sarah, and I traveled to four countries, in three of which we had hosts. We stayed with family friends in St. Cloud, in the Hauts-de-Seine, a suburban region six miles (9.6 km) from Paris. When not babysitting the couple's young children, we appreciated the charm of the village within walking distance where we'd buy fresh baguettes. But like anxious sprinters, we couldn't wait to get to the city.

We navigated the Paris Metro map and went to many sites and arrondissements (or districts), the most memorable provided delectable places to eat. One restaurant had been recommended to us by our hosts: La Gallant Vert, a Michelin-rated restaurant with excellent service, except for the sommelier. He could see by my rudimentary French (Sarah, a first generation Dutch-American spoke fluent French; she had an ear for Russian and Chinese, too) that I was a young American woman whom he assumed had little experience with ordering wine, unaware that my French-speaking friend knew only the basics. I asserted my knowledge of vin to Sarah and told her what I'd pick if given the opportunity. We decided to see what the expert had to say. The sommelier returned, Sarah asked for his suggestion and voila! He recommended the same wine I had a 1978 white Bordeaux. Sarah couldn't stop laughing until she had to explain to the stoic gentleman my original choice. He left unamused.

By this point, I'd fallen in love with Paris yet I couldn't bring myself to pick up my bags and move there, too embarrassed to go without speaking commanding French. I did take several classes. Nevertheless, I didn't return again to Paris until seven years later, in route to a destination in Germany where I planned to teach English. In la belle cité I stayed at the same hotel my parents had discovered: L'Hotel Regina, a boutique hotel renowned for its locale across from the Tuileries Gardens and being home to the statue, Jean D'Arc. I loved the hotel with its warm staff. Later, I enjoyed a lovely home-style meal with a banker, whom I taught when in England, and his family. Since his wife didn't speak English, I mustered the courage to utter phrases which finally brought a smile to the woman's skeptical face.

With luck, I returned one more time, a decade later. As a teacher I had long vacations, which gave me breathing room to savor my travels. I flew into Paris, had a delightful cab ride with a driver who patiently bore my still unpolished French and returned to L'Hotel Regina (No longer an undiscovered and reasonably-priced accommodation. And, since this last trip it has been rated with five stars--too bad). After being promised a room with a view--yes, just like the movie I politely but firmly reminded the manager about my request--I received a new space where I opened my shutters to a diagonal view of the nighttime sky lit by the synchronized lights on la tour Eiffel. Straight across from my window the Grand Roue or Ferris Wheel, a relatively new attraction added to the Jardin des Tuileries, tapped my child-like glee.

Traveling (see my video on YouTube: Around the World in 15 Years ) challenged me only on occasion when I felt isolated. Still, I rarely experienced loneliness in Paris or France for that matter. For my openness to French culture, its art, cuisine, books, music, and most importantly its mercurial people emanated from inside. The French in turn accepted me: my elementary language skills (at least I tried, I'm sure they reasoned), flair for simple and elegant fashion, love of their food, charming shops and the beaming smile I gave them whether they wanted it or not.

No need for me to explain this week why I have shared these stories or my passion for France. I will only end with this French expression, my mantra: Joie de vivre!

###

You'll find brief fictional references to the French and France in my books Shadowwater and Dark Sea www.shadowwater.net

WICKED

Photo by Martin Kahn

(In honor of All Hallows’ Eve and those spirits who are still with us)

WICKED

A wicked gale, 1841,

Took all souls, both old and young.

Among the shipwrecks off the Cape,

No sadder story leaves mouths agape.

Seven ships were swept like splintered trees as

Sailors fought the rising seas.

Fifty-seven lads left that cursed day,

From Truro Harbor through Cape Cod Bay.

With farewells to families and prayers of thanks,

To fish for cod along George’s Banks.

Headed nor ‘east at full sail,

The hopefuls met that dreaded gale.

Soundings dropped as winds blew wild,

And fear spread from man to child.

For closer their vessels approached the shoals,

Which cut their hulls with ripping rolls,

Nature took victims without remorse,

And most were lost who’d set the course.

Legend has it that on autumn nights,

Amidst Truro’s moors, below the heights,

Ghosts of sailors mourn their ghastly plight,

With frightful wails across the night.

So if you dare to brace that wicked wind,

You may hear cries of those doomed kin,

Brothers of the sea who dared to go,

Where others still venture and fight the foe.

NOTE: This poem is based in part on real events off Truro, MA in 1841 (Source: Provincetown Banner, June 28, 2009). The legend is fiction. Originally posted 10/15/13 Poetree Creations.

LIKE THE ABOVE? GO TO: www.shadowwater.net and discover original adventures,  Shadowwater & Dark Sea (Shadowwater II).

NO ONE IS IMMUNE: THE ART OF IMAGERY

As a child, reading challenged me. Few stories captured my heart and my mind as James Fenimore Cooper's The Last of the Mohicans. I know now that the visual interpretations crafted by N.C. Wyeth for the hardcover book  brought me into the epic (Alas, my copy disappeared). Debate continues as to whether Wyeth's work, and others such as Norman Rockwell's, is considered "art."

Being an active Tweeter, in a circuitous way another Tweeter asked me to compare Andy Warhol to John Singer Sargent (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, has a large collection of Sargent's paintings). The conversation led to a consensual conclusion that Andy Warhol changed the boundaries of "What is art?" in the sixties and seventies. Not to disparage Warhol's contributions, if his silk screens are now accepted as modern art, why do current art historians question N.C. Wyeth's distinctive, classic illustrations?

When the satirical magazine Charles Hebdo hit the news, I remembered my brother's copies of MAD Magazine and how much the visual artistry of the cartoonists stayed with me far beyond the captions. Maybe as a visual learner, pictures impressed me more than words. The humorous and sardonic imagery made an impact.

N.C. Wyeth's illustrations had the same effect. Look at the cover he did for The Last of the Mohicans: Chingachgook, father of Uncas, is featured.  Heartbreaking as I remember (SPOILER ALERT) Uncas’ death, as the fictional death of  a bloodline, a tribe, and the eventual demise of a people.

When illustrators’ work reaches into the soul of many, I argue we must put subjective tastes aside. Many will agree that art IS subjective but the cover above reaches beyond the individual. And if a drawing, painting, photograph; an illustration or even street art awakens our numbed senses, deadened by over-stimulation via technology, then the work should be elevated to the status of art. Any hand-made, hand-captured image which makes a community stop and think has more value than any masterpiece hanging in a museum. Awakening the sleeping public is priceless.

It’s been often said that great writers paint pictures with their words. Powerful speakers do the same. For in the end, visual imagery which underscores historical, contemporary and personal events lingers in our consciousness.

WATERCOLOR SEA

(Copyright 2012 Wendy Shreve)

Teal, aqua, sky blue,

Seafoam, emerald, wisteria green,

Tawny, sienna, chocolate brown,

Mauve, lavender, lilac purple;

Intermixing as colors in nature do,

Sparkling with sunlight and misty hues;

Raging, dark, infinite depths,

Sometimes shallow, polluted; imposing deaths;

Watching myriad-colored fish amid tidal pools in the sea,

Water reflects eternal wisdom: all colors are equal; all living things are free.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED (Originally published 2013)

PLEASE GO TO: www.shadowwater.net for more information on my books, SHADOWWATER & DARK SEA.

MARS & WATER: Edgar Rice Burroughs and Percival Lowell

If you're anticipating a blog about Tarzan of the Apes, you'll have to look elsewhere. This commentary will explore the once popular serial by Edgar Rice Burroughs, A Princess of Mars (titled in the 2012 movie John Carter) the first book in Burroughs' Barsoom Series. Why is the popular American author and his fiction relevant? Because Burroughs' associates, scientists of his time, predicted that Mars has water.

A Princess of Mars, set in the 1870s, depicts the red planet dying after once being covered by oceans. The remaining water has receded and disappeared to a point where rival societies fight over water rights. And, an American, John Carter, is accidentally transported to Mars to become a respected hero in this strange, new world. (Wikipedia)

Burroughs learned that lauded astronomer Percival Lowell, discoverer of Pluto, believed that Mars had once been alive with living organisms millions of years ago and had become a dying planet with only water remaining at the polar ice caps. Lowell wrote Mars in 1895. Edgar Rice Burroughs read the publication but didn't directly borrow the scientist's detailed theories, though the author did adopt Lowell's basic premises.

If you skipped Disney's John Carter, I recommend going back and watching it or reading Burroughs' A Princess of Mars (the first book in the Barsoom Series). You will be astonished at Burroughs's depiction of a place not unlike our southwest--where the story begins--and what Mars could have been, fantasy elements aside, in its ability to sustain life.

To conclude, the recent discovery of "water" on Mars by NASA scientists could be the keystone to unlocking secrets long hidden by the cold red soil of a planet once considered dead by real-life scientists but never by Percival Lowell or his sci-fi interpreter Edgar Rice Burroughs.

WHAT'S ALL THE FUSS ABOUT? CLIMATE CHANGE REVISTED

(Wrote this draft January 1, 2015)

Went to a discussion three weeks ago on climate change, a follow-up to a sermon given by a minister that day at a local church. I participated because I walked in the People's Climate March in New York City. The speaker commented that climate change encompassed all the world's problems but didn't elaborate on that grandiose statement. Eventually, a woman, ninety years old with lots of moxie, asked how could it be that climate change is tied to all the world's problems? He replied with brief examples--he had to leave for another commitment--including hotter climates producing hotter tempers, devastating floods, and so on. However, the woman's question has resonated since that discussion.

CRYSTAL LAKE
(During drought, Summer 2013)

Informed, long-term followers know two critical points: that scientists have warned of climate change long before our current crisis. And, science fiction predicted scientific fact (a topic I mentioned in an earlier blog). What weakens the controversy is how, like an extended outline for a research paper, the subheadings, i.e. direct and indirect effects of climate change have been overlooked. To simply my premise, I will list these consequences, in random order, and then provide my observations about some of these current/future effects.

1.     Housing

2.     Jobs

3.     Income

4.     Health

5.     Discrimination

6.     Poverty

7.     Global conflict/International relations

8.     Displaced refugees

9.     Censorship

10. Security

Of course, the above represent a short list of the immediate challenges our changing weather patterns have produced, will produce. Moreover, each could be a topic for a scholar's dissertation. To address these challenges with an academic's eyes, however, would be for naught. Most politicians have ignored scientists' warnings for years, and scientific data goes over their heads. And, for anyone in our global community who works just to survive, the list above means little until we look at real world, concrete examples that will forever change their lives.

Think about this: the population of the Maldives (an island group, south-west of India in the Indian Ocean) is @345,000 people. Within our lifetime, their lifetimes the islands will be swept away by rising seas. Where will they re-locate? How will these refugees be sheltered, fed, given opportunities for work?

Americans know from Super Storm Sandy that thousands lost their homes in New Jersey, Staten Island and elsewhere. The cost to rebuild skyrocketed as some businesses saw their chance to capitalize on the disaster. Flood insurance rose significantly not only there, but along the eastern seaboard. Many first homeowners who've lived their lives and worked their trade along the coastline will be unable to return.

Already illnesses related to increasing temperatures will only worsen as pollutants percolate in the already thickening smog from local industries. Nuclear plant run-off, depleting or threatened aquifers, and agricultural run-off will threaten water supplies. Steep increases in respiratory-related illnesses, such as asthma, allergies, chronic diseases, as with Lyme, have and will continue to rise.

Yes, these examples have been highlighted; nevertheless, Congress, the media, the power elite refuse to see the now short-term dangers of ignoring climate change. In fact, Congress just agreed to slash the EPA's budget when the agency had finally begun to make strides to reduce carbon emissions and other pollutants.

Climate change must be a major issue in upcoming presidential platforms. Let’s all contribute our voices to insuring politicos hear the call and continue to act on preserving our planet for generations to come.