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"Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts." -Rachel Carson

Miss Carson has been talking to me in subtle ways, lately. So I thought maybe it was important to write about her. I keep running into her words on the internet, a reference here or there. A little investigation reveals that this year would have been her 100th birthday, so maybe that's why she's been talking to me.

Who is Rachel Carson? She was a trained marine biologist, who studied at Woods Hole laboratory and received her MA in zoology at John Hopkins University. She was a researcher and a naturalist, who became editor-in-chief of publications for the US Fish and Wildlife Service. Perhaps most importantly, she was an author. Her fierce love of the natural world surfaced in several volumes, one of which, "Silent Spring", spurred an environmental movement that lead to an eventual ban on the use of DDT.

I was first introduced to Carson, not through her famous work, Silent Spring, or her early books about the ocean, but through a book my father gave me in my teens called "The Sense of Wonder". The Nature Company created a special edition of this last book of Carson's prose paired with incredibly detailed photography of nature by William Neil.

The Sense of Wonder was published posthumously. Rachel Carson succumbed to breast cancer after a long fight at the age of 56. The book is based on an article written for "Women's Home Companion" about how to introduce your child to the wonders of nature. The article was a token of love to her grandnephew Roger, whom Carson adopted at the age of five when his mother passed away. Here is one of my favorite passages.

"One summer night, out on a flat headland all but surrounded by the waters of the bay, the horizons were remote and distant rims on the edge of space. Millions of stars blazed in darkness, and on the far shore a few lights burned in cottages; otherwise, there was no reminder of human life.

My companion and I were alone with the stars; the misty river of the Milky Way flowing across the sky, the patterns of the constellations standing out bright and clear, a blazing planet low on the horizon.

It occurred to me that if this were a sight that could be seen only once in a century, this little headland would be thronged with spectators. But it can be seen many scores of nights in any year, and so the inhabitants probably gave not a thought to the beauty overhead.

And because they could see it almost

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