Old London bridge was a money-pit for centuries, always under repair or being partially rebuilt. There are other theories about where the nursery rhyme comes from, but the simplest is often the best :)
Boy, that was really great--I could hear a similar meditation being written about the desert Southwest, where there is simply too little water to sustain all the people who flock there for the dry air and the sun. Well done.
Yes — such similar crises in opposite climates. But the common factor is simply that all of nature is not ours for conquest to any degree we choose. We need to listen to the land, and not push it to do things it simply cannot do!
Oh, Amy! It has been a tough couple weeks and even though this broke my heart to read, I really needed it. Thank you. I had to stop several times to wipe away tears so I could keep reading. Adding this to my list of favorite Florida essays. (It's a very short list, and you're in very good company.)
You're right--I know you're right--but I can't help it. I don't think I could quit it now. Even after seeing my neighborhood turn into a lake last week. (The water comes up through the ground in Orlando, too. Kristen Arnett once called it "moldy as an old kitchen sponge.")
Reading this piece felt like having a friend coax me through a bad relationship, all: honey, you know he's bad for you, and I'm like, I know, but I can't leave! Except, of course, Florida is the victim, not the shitty boyfriend. She deserves so much better than what she got.
Amen to that!! What she needs is for a lot of people to kindly depart and the rest to tread more lightly. But the only thing that moves humans is absolute cataclysm — and then only sometimes. It’s all going to shake out in a prolonged and ugly way, but in the end nature will reclaim it all. Nature will swallow the roads and houses. It’s inevitable.
Nature already is. And while I don't blame her--it's hers, after all--I wish it didn't come with such a high human cost. No matter how much I know justice on a grand scale is being served, it still feels terrible when it's your roads and your home. Plus, we both know the ones with means will leave when it suits them, and the ones who don't have the resources or ability to go will be left to clean up the mess. Mario Alejandro Ariza talked about how this is already playing out in Miami in his essay "Come Heat and High Water" (also on my short list :)): https://culture.org/come-heat-and-high-water/#. It's all so depressing.
This was SO interesting...and frightening! Thank you for posting.
So that's where "London Bridge is falling down" (the nursery rhyme) came from!
You write so beautifully. This piece is stunning in its prose and its conviction.
Thank you! :)
Old London bridge was a money-pit for centuries, always under repair or being partially rebuilt. There are other theories about where the nursery rhyme comes from, but the simplest is often the best :)
Boy, that was really great--I could hear a similar meditation being written about the desert Southwest, where there is simply too little water to sustain all the people who flock there for the dry air and the sun. Well done.
Yes — such similar crises in opposite climates. But the common factor is simply that all of nature is not ours for conquest to any degree we choose. We need to listen to the land, and not push it to do things it simply cannot do!
Oh, Amy! It has been a tough couple weeks and even though this broke my heart to read, I really needed it. Thank you. I had to stop several times to wipe away tears so I could keep reading. Adding this to my list of favorite Florida essays. (It's a very short list, and you're in very good company.)
My heart broke a little writing this too -- loving imperfect things is one thing, but loving doomed things is another. Thank you, Fellow Floridian :)
You're right--I know you're right--but I can't help it. I don't think I could quit it now. Even after seeing my neighborhood turn into a lake last week. (The water comes up through the ground in Orlando, too. Kristen Arnett once called it "moldy as an old kitchen sponge.")
Reading this piece felt like having a friend coax me through a bad relationship, all: honey, you know he's bad for you, and I'm like, I know, but I can't leave! Except, of course, Florida is the victim, not the shitty boyfriend. She deserves so much better than what she got.
Amen to that!! What she needs is for a lot of people to kindly depart and the rest to tread more lightly. But the only thing that moves humans is absolute cataclysm — and then only sometimes. It’s all going to shake out in a prolonged and ugly way, but in the end nature will reclaim it all. Nature will swallow the roads and houses. It’s inevitable.
Nature already is. And while I don't blame her--it's hers, after all--I wish it didn't come with such a high human cost. No matter how much I know justice on a grand scale is being served, it still feels terrible when it's your roads and your home. Plus, we both know the ones with means will leave when it suits them, and the ones who don't have the resources or ability to go will be left to clean up the mess. Mario Alejandro Ariza talked about how this is already playing out in Miami in his essay "Come Heat and High Water" (also on my short list :)): https://culture.org/come-heat-and-high-water/#. It's all so depressing.