Funnels—those are what the Brayton Point coal-fired power plant’s cooling towers look like.
The image has run across my screen fleetingly over the past several months. Those concrete twin cylinders are like a little fly in my peripheral vision.
It’s one of a hundred thousand images or more I’ve registered in that time, that is, since I’ve known Brayton Point is the target of Mothers Out Front, 350.org, and others in Massachusetts who want coal-fired plants outta here. The other one that’s stuck in my mind is a six year old’s garrulous, scrawled, ebullient list of observations during a visit to Fresh Pond Reservation. She came in after barely two hours in the simplest of habitats—the littlest bit of only one segment of our watershed here in Cambridge— sat in the circle, and diligently recorded her findings and those of her classmates. The kids ranged in age from four to six. They did not have the adult filters which relegate a goldfinch to the status of wallpaper, the bee to expendable background.
There is no expendable, until you’re taught so.
Thank you for the garrulous, scrawled record of busy animals and a sycamore that can hold a handful of kids in its hollow, little girl whom I shall not name here. Thank you, Mothers Out Front for trying to shut down Brayton Point.
I’m betting some mothers and some six-year–olds in Somerset, Massachusetts—where the funnels are more than just a fly across the visual field—as well as those farther away—none of us expendable—will be better off without a coal-fired plant in our midst.