the watershed

  I always find the urge to put in a break, sometimes mid-sentence,  but definitely after each period.  Sometimes I find the urge to make the space wide, a void opened up between thoughts,  make sure there is time to consume what's been said.  Sometimes there are no spaces at all, no line breaks other than that demanded by the end of a page, a screen, simply because I cannot write across the globe in perpetuity.     Why can't I write my science article, my dissertation with forced pauses and style? Why can't I tell you about the mosses and wetlands, where the frogs used to live - before - a fungus, Batachochytrium dendrobatidis, brought by us came and dissolved their skin?  It's a different kind of story-telling, I know, but sometimes it seems more effective.  Translating the facts and data between poetry and professionally formatted article.    They say that science must remain emotionless, disciplined.  No, there are ...

Per the EPAs mission statement of protecting human health and the environment, one would think that a policy change to ignore the costs of human health to be contradictory.  However, given the history of the EPA, there has always been the underlying issue of business and capitalism. Defining the costs of human health is complex - Do you only include health issues that can be directly, inextricably tied to PM 2.5? Do you include only those that go to the doctor? There are many Americans that are uninsured and will avoid doctor visits as long and as frequently as possible. How do you calculate the cost of treatment and care? Do you include the lost wages of said person, their lost potential to earn wages or make profit for a company? How exactly do you calculate the potential of someone who may be at least partially disabled by poor air quality?  There are a lot of questions that go into answering what the human cost is, and all of them open a door for debate.  Living in Sa...

To begin, to stray from stasis. There are spiderwebs forming in the places you no longer visit, a new home for someone else.    Sometimes I think about a love that no longer holds me. That place we built in the spaces between us, lovers, has grown thick with cobwebs, settled like a fog and distorts the view.  I don't mourn the change, I am grateful to have known a place so beautiful, and I am grateful that I have been able to explore new landscapes.  Sometimes she comes back to me, she tells me about the dreams we once held together. I'm sorry, love, I think we should let the spiders have it, it is a good place for them.  Please, I ask her, please, will you dream of something new, something new with someone new?     We had built a place, it was expansive and demanding to maintain. There were rivers and mountains and deserts and lakes. We had tears and laughter, secrets and truths. It was full. I don't want to place blame, I want her to know that i...