While travellin' down to Isle Madame you'll find the sea is mighty ca'm
Cause a dirty oil slick's holdin' down the foam;
But Ottawa don't seem to care 'bout the Bunker C that's lyin' there
In that little oil-ringed island we call home.
In 1998, I published The Living Beach, my most extensive piece of environmental writing — an account of the fascinating dance of wind, sand and water that makes beaches, live, grow, shrink, die and adapt. The book won a bunch of awards, but when the publishing house was sold to a multinational corporation it instantly went out of print.
"My favourite beach?" asks Dr. Miles O. Hayes of Columbia, South Carolina. "There's no doubt that the most beautiful beaches in the world are the beaches in South Carolina. You should go to Kiawah Island. Beautiful clean white sandy beaches."
Amused by his own boosterism, Hayes laughs heartily.
This ruling fills me with jubilation. In my 1998 book The Living Beach, I took a look at the idea that natural phenomena should have legal rights. Bolivia has passed a landmark law on this topic — and here's a Canadian court asserting the duty of Canada to protect the habitat of a wild animal.