There are spots here and there on the earth – mainly in regions of karst topography – where rivers suddenly drop into holes in the ground and disappear. It's a perfect image for this place I live in, and the office in which I work. There's another image, as well: In remote parts of the world – the Arctic is a good example – what are called durable goods flow from manufacturing centers to the destinations where they're used. When they're broken or worn out, they're consigned to dumps. Being durable goods with no place to go, there they sit, awaiting, I presume, another Ice Age.
Not meaning to be obscure or cute, I'll explain. Here I sit, an elderly, widowed, mostly retired person; compromised by age and semi-sequestered from an airborne, possibly lethal virus; with nobody in-house to swap ideas with, or argue with, or share reactions to the river of information and opinion that flow in here like the Mississippi River, whirl about in a mental eddy, and disappear into apparent oblivion.
At the risk of being thought a simple-minded utilitarian, I have to ask what's it all for? My kids and the rest of my family all have their own ideas about what's real or important. I have one vote in each election, a gift that I consider sacred; yet it's only one vote. I have little money to give, if I wish to, to any political campaigns. Even if I were more influential, the changes occurring in worldwide cultures still would be outstripping my ability to keep up. Crossword puzzles, for example, are a breeze as long as they stick to the Treaty of Ghent or creatures like the "nine-banded American cingulate." But clues like "Front Man for Def Leppard" drive me straight to the cheat sheets. At some point, I suppose – when it becomes clear that I'll never catch up – I'll cease to care and retreat into the wasteland of commercial television.
Each morning, when I turn on the computer, I get headlines from The New York Times and The Washington Post, with links to the full articles. Later, there are three area newspapers covering everything from national news to crashes on the interstate and school budget votes. There's a television set in almost every room of the house, a legacy of my late wife. When I'm cooking and eating, which normally occupy about twenty minutes, I watch the news on the tiny set nestled high up in a kitchen cabinet, and grumble at the endless commercials: "Mesothelioma! That's all we do!" to which I invariably add, "...and we're the most boring bloody law firm in the world!"
In the early afternoon there's nap time (an old summer camp habit revived) with Kiki and the magazines: three alumni magazines, three mountain club monthlies, Time, The Week, New Yorker Adirondack Explorer, Archeology, The Atlantic, National Geographic, National Review – I'm sure I haven't listed them all. And when I go back to the desk and fire up Facebook (which I enjoy too much, but what else is there for companionship except for that, e-mail, Zoom, and snail-mail during the sequester?), the first thing to strike my inquiring eyes is the news that Congresswoman Ilhan Omar is about to be hanged for treason; and right behind her comes Hillary Clinton, to be grilled again about her seditious e-mails.
What a smörgåsbord! What a mélange of information, purported facts, and (often rabid) opinions! I keep hearing the line from Shakespeare, "Macbeth does murder sleep," and transform it in my mind to, "MacDonald does murder truth." Fake news has become common currency. Trying to make sense of our national environment is like climbing a cliff of rotten rock: Any handhold is likely to fail at any moment.
So what's an old guy to do? Even given that he knows the philosophical slant of each source he reads, what can he believe? The June issue of The Atlantic features three frightening articles: on Russian intervention in our elections (which continues), US Government cyberspying on unwitting journalists, and the ominous growth of QAnon, in which "facts and reality don't matter." Besides, whether the old-timer believes what he reads or not, what's the difference? He still has only one vote, he's seriously superannuated, and his congressman's youthful aides answer his e-mails with vanilla-pudding boilerplate.
In the middle of thus feeling like the Incredible Shrinking Man, I opened the June issue of National Geographic. The cover story is "The Last Voices of World War II." With photos and comments by men and women in most cases my age or only a few years older, it tells the personal stories of those who lived through that awful paroxysm of cruelty and killing: warriors of all nationalities, prisoners, and children. The effect is powerful; I felt myself tearing up at almost every page. Then there followed the usual frustration: The people who most need to see and appreciate those terrible times, gold star flags in windows, dreaded yellow telegrams, never will. They're young and engaged in decisions and leadership, and perhaps harbor the fantasy that skirting the edge of open conflict is safe. I have a friend, a Hiroshima survivor, they need to talk to. We must not be stupid enough to follow information into the black hole.
UPCOMING EVENT - Sunday, October 6, 2024 - Trail Mixer 2024 Windows to the Wild Event
WINDOWS TO THE WILD WITH WILLEM LANGE is generously supported by the Alice J. Reen Charitable Trust and the Bailey Charitable Foundation
Willem Lange’s wardrobe is generously donated by The Kittery Trading Post
Fifty years ago, a group of citizens stopped the development of an oil refinery.
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Thanks to our podcast partner: The Marlin Fitzwater Center for Communication at Franklin Pierce University
Adventure journalist Freddie Wilkinson and a group of indigenous paddlers set out.
We rejoin adventure journalist Freddie Wilkinson and a group of indigenous paddlers.
A team of researchers study the effects of human interactions with Canada Jays.
Willem Lange and a group of New England travelers explore the beauty and culture of France.
The Gulf of Maine offshore wind farm could become New England's next source of renewable energy.
Elevate Youth empowers youth to explore the outdoors and promotes environmental stewardship.
Gregory Rec and his daughter Corrina love hiking together.
Myah Rather is a Meteorology and Atmospheric Science student from Maryland.
Joe Klementovich travels along Maine's rivers on a paddleboard.
Marshall Hudson writes stories about interesting and often forgotten places and people.
Scarlett, also known as "Little Foot" has hiked all 48 of New Hampshire's 4,000 footers.
Mirna Valerio does it all. She runs, hikes and skis. She encourages others, no matter who they are.
As an NHPBS member, you'll be among the first to experience it.
Randy Pierce lost his sight in 2000, but not his determination to keep hiking.
Dogtown, part of the forgotten forests of Cape Ann, Mass.
Wildlife videographer Alfred Balch heads into the woods with Willem.
Find out what attracts our feathered friends to this special spot.
Host Willem Lange takes viewers on a ride along the Scenic RailRiders track in Concord, NH.
A North Conway, NH family shares what they learned about the effects of climate change.
Willem and Wendy Lull explore and discuss ways to record and preserve life on the coast.
Willem goes looking for moose with long-time moose researcher Charles Willey in Colebrook.
A trip along Vermont's Long Trail.
Join host Willem Lange on a tour of a Cambridge oasis -- the Mount Auburn Cemetery.
Willem and a group of people from throughout New England took a trip through Ireland.
What do you do with a section of 170-year-old abandoned railroad track?
Melissa Elam has hiked all of NH's 4,000-foot mountains with her cat, Floki.
A North Conway family shares what they learned about the effects of climate change.
Gabriel Andrus will ski from the northern border of NH to its southern border this winter.
There are gems in the hills. Host Willem Lange learns there's a lot to rock hunting.
Arlette Laan is the first woman to hike all eleven of the National Scenic Trails.
Kayaker Betsy Wish set out years ago to meet the people who catch our lobsters.
Host Willem Lange is at sea on the American Eagle schooner.
The Manchester Cedar Swamp Preserve is considered an ecological gem.
Getting outdoors is important but its also important to be safe.
WINDOWS TO THE WILD's good friend and Outdoor Enthusiast, Chaya Harris from Outdoor Afro.
Competitive rower Erik Frid takes a break from competition to row 300 miles.
Susie Spikol is a naturalist at the Harris Center for Conservation Education.
Mt. Eustis Ski Hill opened in 1939 and was a community gathering place until it closed.
David Krueger is a Language Specialist / Interpreter, you may have seen him.
New Hampshire resident Susan Dromey Heeter is competitive.
Redline guide Ken Hodges hikes with Debby "Bear Repellent" Roberts.
Willem hikes with partners and participants of Summits in Solidarity.
The Lifesaving Station at Wood Island was used for sea rescue prior to the Coast Guard.
The Lifesaving Station at Wood Island was used for sea rescue prior to the Coast Guard.
Conway photographer Joe Klementovich uses a paddleboard to explore 130 miles of the Saco.
Students attend school aboard a schooner.
Join us for an all new season of Windows to the Wild with Willem Lange! Wednesdays at 7:30
Host Willem Lange is with friends on the Tucker Mountain trail in Vermont.