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 Changing Skies Vol. II

Writing Contest 1st Place

Marine Murderer


"The ocean was calm that day; there was no wind, only the sun beating down on my head as the dive boat sped on top of the water. The sky reflected an azure blue, with not a cloud in the sky.  My fingertips gently touched the water. People asked me what I was doing when they heard me calling my friends to come and play with us. Within minutes, they had surrounded the boat..."

 Changing Skies Vol. II Writing Contest 2nd Place 

The Promise Of Granite

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"This is all so personal, so trivial, yet so unusual in the world of today that I feel I myself may be a vanishing species. My simple way of life is strangled by the cat’s cradle of drooping wires that connects the vinyl houses perched along the highway to the power grid that struts across a field where deer used to graze at dawn... "

 Changing Skies Vol. II Writing Contest 2nd Place 

Remembering What I Fight For



"Watching these icebergs that broke off the Greenland ice sheet pour into the ocean is magnificent and terrifying. I am sixteen, and I already know too much about climate change to sleep at night. It is all I talk about with my friends, all I learn about at school, and all I feel as I sit here in the Arctic. I hear climate projections in terms of my birthday..."

 Changing Skies Vol. II  

Perito Moreno

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"I’d sink through the lake, where ice chunks would look like teal silhouettes. Then one silhouette would rise beneath me, and I’d look down to see a piece of ice surging to the surface. Lifted by that ice, supported by it, I’d burst back into the air. Flecks of mist would fall like rain, but once they had subsided, I’d see the ice cliffs’ new facades: azure, angled, sharp. I’d wonder if the people on the viewing platform could see me, or if I melted into the jay-blue water..."

 Changing Skies Vol. II  

Sea Wall



"The team we gathered to build our timber frame house was a group of artists working construction day jobs, and when it came to setting our stone foundation, they all agreed Tom should take the lead. A lanky guy with a graying ponytail, Tom carried a dog-eared copy of Living the Good Life with him everywhere. Helen and Scott Nearing’s self-published 1954 chronicle of their move to rural Maine..."

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