Silent Spring.

There are a handful of moments in my life where I can look back and say, “There.  That’s where it changed.”  They don’t come along often, and at the time we are rarely able to recognize them.  One such moment was picking up Silent Spring when I was in sixth grade.  We had to write a paper about a figure in twentieth century American history.  I chose Rachel Carson, and by the end of sixth grade, I'd read each Silent Spring, and all four of the Sea books from cover to cover.

Silent Spring captured my imagination and introduced me to an entire new world.  At the time, I felt a heaviness, that, even today, I have not been able to shake.  The book was published decades ago, but Rachel Carson’s influence on modern environmentalism is still felt, her writings still deeply relevant, and her warnings eerily prescient.

If you haven’t read it, for whatever reason, I strongly urge you to find a copy (or come over to my house, and borrow one of my editions) and read at least the first chapter, which is heart-breaking and exquisite.  Carson was an extraordinary woman with a lovely way of infusing science with deep emotion and passion.  She remains a hero of mine and the person with whom I credit my deep commitment to environmentalism.