Here, in this little Bay, Full of tumultuous life and great repose, Where, twice a day, The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes, Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town, I sit me down. For want of me the world’s course will not fail; When all its work is done, the lie shall rot; The truth is great, and shall prevail, When none cares whether it prevail or not.
The headlines started appearing in late summer. “Earth had its hottest August in 175-year record,” wrote the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Now, in November, there’s a regular pile of them: “NASA finds summer 2024 hottest to date” (NASA), “2024 is on track to be the warmest year on record” (the World Meteorological Organization), “This year set to be first to breach 1.5C global warming limit” (the BBC).
