My latest at Townhall.com
'Fledgling' means new.
The coal doesn’t just burn.
It remembers.
Every lump a fossil, every spark a story—
of warmth, yes,
but also of lungs gone black
and mountains hollowed from the inside out.
So when power speaks of “revival,”
it’s worth asking:
Revival of what?
And for whom?
There’s a kind of nostalgia that edits out the ash.
But the earth doesn’t forget.
And neither do the waters downstream.
Or the winds that carry what's left behind.
This isn’t just about energy.
It’s about time.
Whose future we fight for.
Whose past we repeat.
So what if “great again” meant something quieter, cleaner—
not the roar of extraction,
but the hum of restoration?
What would you revive, if you could?
Your turn now.
'Fledgling' means new.
The coal doesn’t just burn.
It remembers.
Every lump a fossil, every spark a story—
of warmth, yes,
but also of lungs gone black
and mountains hollowed from the inside out.
So when power speaks of “revival,”
it’s worth asking:
Revival of what?
And for whom?
There’s a kind of nostalgia that edits out the ash.
But the earth doesn’t forget.
And neither do the waters downstream.
Or the winds that carry what's left behind.
This isn’t just about energy.
It’s about time.
Whose future we fight for.
Whose past we repeat.
So what if “great again” meant something quieter, cleaner—
not the roar of extraction,
but the hum of restoration?
What would you revive, if you could?
Your turn now.