Downshift.

Three months ago, at three in the morning, on the first dark night I had seen since heading to the arctic I pulled a beat-up T-bird into the parking lot of the Whitehorse city campground—I was back in the capital of the Yukon. In less then 48 hours I had come south from Inuvik, through the Canadian Rockies, past the Arctic circle, and out of the Mackenzie River basin. After 700 kilometers in a pickup hauling a skidoo in back, I caught a late night ride with two Gwich'in women leaving Dawson city to run some errands in Whitehorse—500 km away. After feeding me they had me take over driving and for the next four hours I avoided potholes, elk, and foxes. Not an easy task with only one headlight and a plastic tarp over the passenger side window. Not to mention it was my first night in 40 days.

Last week my parents and I rented a car for a week of exploring in southern Italy The road hazards here are different from those in the Arctic. Mountain passes are not filled with wild tundra, grizzly bears, and elk but rather with vineyards, castles, mopeds, and donkeys.

The landscape, though not natural, is still stunning. For several days we stayed in the city of Matera. A city with human roots in the bronze age. Around Matera runs a deep limestone canyon with one side covered in stone houses and the other pockmarked with 1000 year-old cave dwellings. The small river, that began cutting its way into the limestone hundreds of thousands of years-ago, flows brown and muddy through the bottom of the canyon. Its foul odor speaks both to its long and continuing relationship with the city above and of a humanity's ability to define itself with nature and still disregard it.

Chioggia, an island city, in northeastern Italy is a perfect example of this dualism. The city rises from the salt marshes of the Venetian lagoon, its people are fishermen, net makers, and boat builders, it has an amazing daily fresh fish market, and is frequently submerged by high tides and strong storm surges. Yet its canals and nearby beaches resemble flooded landfills—plastic, Styrofoam, and and an oily film float everywhere. Its local fisheries are crashing and soon huge flood protection programs may do unknown damage to those resources that remain. And everyday people buy their fresh fish with one hand and wash the filth from their sidewalks into the canal with the other.

Beaches.

At least 200 meters of beach near the city of Pellestrina--a community on one of the Venetian lagoon's barrier islands--is beautiful. I hope there is more then 200 meters, but from what I know about the beaches further south--near the city of Sottomarina--a clean beach is not a guarantee in Northern Italia.

As a demonstration:

On October 26 I walked along the sea, 2-meters from the water, for exactly ten minutes and saw the following.

plastic water bottles (10), sunglasses, diapers, plastic fishing net, a dead gull, fish heads, rubber toy shark, glass vials, motor oil containers (2), beer cans (5), coca-cola can, rubber gloves (10), work gloves, toy car, plastic bags (20 +), a flower pot, uncountable pieces of Styrofoam, shoes (3), wood, dead eel grass, a soccer ball, orange peels, candy wrappers, cigarette butts, pill bottles (2), tooth paste containers, a disposable razor, seashells, the jaw bone of a cow, plastic forks, pens (2), a bag of potatoes, plastic lids, half full bottle of antifreeze, dish soap, cardboard food cartons, feathers, and sand.

L'acqua alta.

A few minutes ago the sound of loud sirens broke the night's silence. Strong winds, full moon, high tide--the water's rising.