My most moving climate story...we moved to south Florida when I was 11. My dad took us to a bridge over a bay to fish. It was a new bridge made of concrete. My day thought it would be a great idea if we scratched all our names in the new concrete and make a pointer to our new, best fishing hole. He even took a tool out to mark tide lines on the new seawall under the bridge. It’s been nearly 70 years but those memories are so fresh it could have been yesterday. The bridge looks old now but is still in good condition. The names we scratched into the bright, new concrete have faded some but are still there. Best of all the tide marks are still readable...and just as accurate as they were 70 years ago. The End.
Dang climate vandals.
Great story!
Reminds me of my summers and long weekends as a kid at Big Silver Lake, where my Grandparents retired.
Over the course of the 50+ years we had that property, some summers there would be MILES of beachfront because the lake was low. Those were the best! Big bonfires on the beach, finding lots of formerly-underwater ‘treasures’ and easier to swim all the way across the lake and back! :)
Dad & Grandpa hated those years because there was SO MUCH PIER they had to lay out. ;)
Other summers the water would be so high that it came right to the bottom of our steps down to the lake. No beach that year. :( But Dad & Grandpa like those years; less pier to put up!
I don’t remember it being the same year to year, either.
So, ‘Science!’ or something, I guess. *SMIRK*