Dispatch from the Galapagos: The summer I gave up meat

Rachel Atkinson hops like a Darwin finch from one volcanic outcropping to the next, then plunges into ankle-deep mud. Squishing as she walks, the botanist with the Charles Darwin Research Station homes in on the ailing invaders: blackberry, passion fruit, and quinine bushes clustered near Santa Cruz Island's last shrubby stands of Scalesia trees. Atkinson smiles in approval. One more blast of herbicide ought to prevent the aliens from regrowing and give the Scalesia a shot at survival after all.
We were on the front-line of an epic war being waged on all sorts of invasive species in the Galápagos Islands. Surprisingly, the culprit seems to be global warming, which is usually associated with polar bears and other sorts of cold things-not an archipelago situated one degree south of the equator.
It all started in the late 1980s, when the periodic El Niños became more frequent and severe. Of course, we do have to give some credit to the pirates and whalers who began visiting the Galápagos in the 1700s and leaving behind goats, pigs, and other animals as a living larder for future visits. That couldn't have helped.

Here's what I do to deal with jet lag. I don't go to sleep much before I travel. I think I was a hamster in my past life. I'm the type who wants to get every last project done, every last dish washed, every last chore behind me before I head out the door. I ruminate. I become more compulsive than usual. 
When I went on trek in .jpg)



From San Francisco to London and Paris to India, protestors are taking to the streets to demonstrate against China's hosting of the Olympic Games. Angered by the Chinese government's refusal to meet with the Dalai Lama, as well as the continued suppression of human rights in potential breakaway regions, the world is seeking to punish China on the eve of its long-anticipated coming out party.













