![]() We are such temporary stuff – but we love each other just the same, trying to hold each other on our turning Earth we tinker with at our peril, far arm of a galactic spiral, midst a universe that exploded into being billions of years ago, whose speeding shrapnel we, fiery-minded beings, are. At these time scales, life is a dizzying and mutable dance. Islands, too, sometimes cease to be, are swallowed by rising seas, gathered in by land formations, only to be cast adrift once again. ![]() No man is an island, John Donne famously wrote. Today, migrants the world over are being displaced by wars over resources and climate change driven droughts. European settlers arrived, in numbers and to stay, just a century and a half ago. Indigenous peoples travelled down this coast – when it had a different coastline, a different sea level yet again – thousands of years ago. I live on what was an island that became, in time, a peninsula only to – one day in the not too distant future, with the changing climate and rising seas – most likely become an island again. ![]() Photograph courtesy of Lawrence Schwartzwald.Ĭhange is the true nature of every place we inhabit, everything we are. ![]()
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