Christopher Soloman, writer of The New York Times, paints his readers a stunning portrait - one most will never get to see in real life - of an area quickly vanishing in our nation-wide gamble for oil and money.
While some people choose to wave human interference off as a contributing factor to the world’s changing climates, others paint a vivid picture of one of the most capturing Wildlife areas in the world, that leaves readers who have never been there begging the question are we willing to lose this? With his article, “Exploring a Timely Wilderness Before Drilling Begins” Soloman does just that.
This piece is a silent killer. Soloman’s eloquent language, and detailed descriptions of Alaska’s Arctic National Wildlife Refuge take the reader on a serene journey through the sanctuary, planting only small seeds of information that question why we would drill a “Deleware-size” hole into the wildlife rich lands, for oil and money.
Writing in first person narrative, Soloman takes the reader along his journey. You can feel his sense of calm and awe as he navigates the land with passages like,
“We drift and paddle and drift more. Faced with the unceasing light of an Arctic June, time loses shape. The tyranny of the alarm clock is replaced by a fainter pulse, usually lost to us nowadays: the rhythm of natural places. We eat later and later, and take meandering walks in the convalescent light of midnight.”
Soloman quickly and quietly moves the reader downstream. He takes them along with him as he soaks up his views, keeping them intruiged by shifting from long, descriptive sentences, to short, straightforward statements. Yet as the structure changes, the beauty does not.
“A moose startles. The sun drops behind those walls. The world, and lips, turn a shivery blue. Finally, the mountains release the river. The sun splashes us with caramel light and reviving warmth.”
As a reader, you become captivated by his sensory details. This is what makes the piece so impressive. Just when you let your surroundings go completely and succumb to this beautiful trip Soloman takes you on, he hits you with the reality.
“‘Welcome to the Arctic Plain,” Mr. George says, standing in the stern of our raft like a Mississippi boatman.
So this is what all the fighting is about.
For almost a half-century, the stretch of land between mountains and sea here has been a sanctuary with an asterisk ... For nearly 50 years a battle has been waged between those who think drilling in the so-called 1002 Area is Alaska’s birthright and can be done well — the oil industry, many of Alaska’s politicians, the native corporations that would see needed funds from drilling — and those who say the place is too valuable for other reasons, and also too wild, to drill.”
Just like that. He pulls the reader in, captivated by an image from his descriptively detailed writing, and then switches gears to reality giving the reader no time to blink. It is artfully written in a way that uses emotion to grab the attention of the reader before relaying the facts.
Soloman goes on for several more graphs to explain this history of drilling in this area and what implications it may have to continue with this bill. The argument used by many pro-drilling representatives is that this Arctic Plain is the most ‘desolate’ area in Alaska. Soloman allows the reader to draw their own conclusion about that as he uses it to end his piece with clarity and ambiguity all at once.
‘Desolate!” we say each time a snowy owl lifts off in search of a lemming.
“Nothing here!” we call out to one another as the next herd of caribou shimmers into view. We know better than to chase them, now. And we wait, patiently, for their arrival.
The sun is high. My watch is dead. It is exactly the time it is supposed to be.”
It’s beautiful, it’s quiet, and it’s powerful.