Orion January / February 2013

OF THE MANY bellwether moments associated with Hurricane Sandy, one of the most poignant was a public debate featuring the governor of New York State and the mayor of New York City over what kind of new infrastructure—whether floodgates or seawalls or flood-resistant buildings or restored wetlands—would best protect the city from the kinds of storm surges that came with Sandy. Their ideas about what they thought might happen were different, but you could argue that their disagreement over how to deal with climate change–related events was the end of the mainstream debate about whether climate change is real. Climate change is real, and the conversation around it has more traction and more momentum than ever. Now is the time to move forward. The Obama administration, which has doggedly tried…

Robert Dawson is an instructor of photography at Stanford University. His photographs are in the collections of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the Smithsonian American Art Museum, and the Museum of Modern Art in New York. David Gessner’s cartooning career began at the Harvard Crimson, with a drawing called “The Trickle Down Theory.” He is the author of eight books, including The Tarball Chronicles, and is at work on a novel. Paul Kingsnorth is a writer and poet living in Cumbria, in northern England. He is cofounder and director of the Dark Mountain Project, a network of writers, artists, and thinkers; his essay in this issue of Orion was first published in the third issue of Dark Mountain. Katherine Larson is the author of Radial Symmetry, winner of…

THANKS to Sandra Stein-graber for her exceptional essay in the September/October 2012 issue, “The Fracking of Rachel Carson.” I live in Idaho, where we too are in the fracking industry’s bull’seye—seismic testing in a fifty-square-mile area began near here in August. A few of us in Payette County have tried desperately to sound the alarm, but most of the time our pleas fall on deaf ears (especially if those ears are attached to state lawmakers). Steingraber’s article draws clear and concise parallels between what is happening in Rachel Carson’s backyard—and subsequently all of our backyards—and the future we’re destroying for our children and future generations. There are days when I just want to curl up in a fetal position, cry, and question whether I’m making a difference. But, fortunately, every…

THANKS to all of our readers for making 2012, Orion’s thirtieth year, such a fun ride. Orion staffers toured the country, from Washington DC to Portland, Oregon, meeting readers and contributors and making new friends. We’re traveled out — but you can spend time with us via the Orion blog, updated five times a week, at www.orionmagazine.org/blog. Sy Montgomery, author of the beloved Orion article “Deep Intellect,” wrote in to say that giant Pacific octopus Octavia, who came to the New England Aquarium after Athena’s sudden death, laid eggs in October. That’s usually the end of an octopus’s life cycle, so aquarium staff and volunteers are grooming another octopus, Kali, to replace Octavia in the exhibit. Listen to Sy Montgomery and others discuss animal intelligence by subscribing to the Orion…

1. KOI. When contained in Japanese-style water gardens, these colorful carp are a symbol of love and friendship. When released into wild ponds and waterways, they become a destructive terror, outbreeding and outcompeting all the natives. Their resemblance to goldfish is also problematic, especially for children. Boys and girls who snag one of these giant bottom feeders during fishing trips may believe they’re about to land a largemouth bass. What they find instead is the emotional equivalent of a puppy with a hook through its mouth. 2. CHICKENS. Animal rights advocates have repeatedly warned us that if these birds were ever allowed to truly grasp the gross abuse of their species by American agriculture, they would start a Planet of the Apes – style uprising and slaughter us all. The…

Jelle Cauwenberghs Gamvik, Norway I LIVE IN THE OLD BAKERY for the I summer, working as a guide and a housekeeper. It’s a yellow house on the verge of collapse. The faucets leak and the walls weep when the rain seeps in. Mold stains cloud the ceiling. I keep the rein-deer skins and the old books upstairs in the attic, to keep them dry. Downstairs is the tack room where I keep the saddles for the horses and the wood for winter. When they announce hurricane winds I tie rope to the door handle so it doesn’t slam open. This is the knife edge of a continent. You will find kindness here, the raw hospitality of a sliver of land caught between the fjells and the sea. From my bedroom…