He’s fatter than I thought he’d be, and older, too. That long lock of bottle-blond hair, which no doubt in better days would have been coiled around his head like an old garden hose, dangles almost down his shoulder, another casualty of the cold wind in this goddamned place…. Read More
You’d think that after all these years, he’d be used to seeing me trudge up the steep lane, ankle-deep in the County Mayo muck, toward that ancient abandoned shell of a cottage that until just recently passed for a calf barn. After all, I’ve made this pilgrimage four times in 20 years, twice with a different sullen teenager in tow and every time, either he or his wife has been there to greet me…. Read More
Bushkill, Pa. — IT was midmorning, and the sun was over my shoulder. A breeze rustled the dead leaves still clinging to the oaks, just enough to cover the sound as I fox-footed my way through the undergrowth.
A few dozen yards ahead of me, the doe stopped midstride. Her muscles tightened, and she raised her head and scanned the forest. For an instant, I thought she had spotted me. She hadn’t. She moved on, a couple more yards…. Read More
Once upon a time, not so long ago, Presidio, Texas, was a thriving farm and ranch town, known around the nation for its cantaloupes and its onions. They even had an onion festival every year… Read More
I’m a few days away, riding through the west Texas desert on my motorcycle, but soon enough I’ll be chasing the rains north through country ravaged by cycles of drought and flood and drought and flood. Maybe that will give us something to talk about when I’m in Denton. I’m looking forward to the conversation…. Read More
BUSHKILL, Pa. — Even now, when I conjure him and he deigns to come, I always see him the same way. He’s encircled in sweet blue smoke, standing on the cool stone of the walkway around midnight…. Read More
“Seamus McGraw takes us on a trip along America’s culturally fractured back roads and listens to farmers and ranchers and fishermen, many of them people who are not ideologically, politically, or in some cases even religiously inclined to believe in man-made global climate change”.
“He shows us how they are already being affected and the risks they are already taking on a personal level to deal with extreme weather and its very real consequences for their livelihoods.”
“McGraw also speaks to scientists and policymakers who are trying to harness that most renewable of American resources, a sense of hope and self-reliance that remains strong in the face of daunting challenges. By bringing these voices together, Betting the Farm on a Drought ultimately becomes a model for how we all might have a pragmatic, reasoned conversation about our changing climate.” – Yale Climate Connections
The very last thing the old farmer wanted to do on that rainy Sunday morning in early spring was sit down and talk with me. And he had made it perfectly clear why…. Read More
I’m pleased that Betting the Farm has been reviewed by J. Scott Donahue for the Sierra Club. “More Americans believe in angels than in climate change, writes journalist Seamus McGraw in his new book, … Read More
Maybe after all these years, my memory is playing tricks on me, but I remember him looking like a brilliant bolt of lightning that carried its own storm inside it…. Read More