by George Sibley
We’re hearing a lot about “climate change” these years – apparently an article of faith, like God: something you believe in or you don’t, or don’t really believe in but pretend you do, or sort of do believe in but pretend you don’t, as suits your politics and political friends in other more immediate matters.
by George Sibley
I’m writing this column from a cabin on the bank of the Wisconsin River, again. A lazy, lovely river, attractive to big gaggles of geese, a snag across the way in which a eagle often sits, occasional resting place for a sandhill crane or two, a couple egrets, and a daily parade of turkeys down by the beach. A beautiful place in which everything and nothing dependably happens daily.