A Tough Morning for Conservation — and One Bright Spot of Hope

 

Crisp autumn morning at Mount Moran in Grand Teton National Park, the snowy peak mirrored perfectly in the calm water below.

Mount Moran reflected in the Snake River.. Grand Teton National Park

This morning I want to take a few minutes to get serious about a subject I truly care about. Not my cats and their furry antics. No joking around today. We’re facing a real shift in environmental conservation, and it’s not a good one for wildlife or the planet. We only have one world, and we need to do everything we can to keep it a safe, stable home to pass on to future generations.

Environmental Protections Under Pressure

Several news outlets reported new efforts to reduce or remove federal protections on land surrounding major national parks, including areas connected to Yellowstone. Conservation groups warn that these buffer zones support wildlife corridors — the pathways animals rely on to migrate, breed, and survive. Without them, the parks turn into isolated pockets instead of functioning ecosystems.

Other reports describe changes to protections for certain marine reserves. These changes open the door to expanded commercial activity in areas originally set aside to safeguard ocean habitats. Marine scientists and environmental organizations say the shift could weaken long‑standing conservation work.

Whether people support or oppose these policy goals, the impact is real. Wildlife, water quality, and future generations all feel the effects. It’s hard not to feel a sense of loss when protections that took decades to build can disappear so quickly.

A Reminder That Conservation Still Works

In the middle of all that discouraging news, something else crossed my feed — and it reminded me why conservation matters.

Just hours after California completed its first wildlife bridge, three deer walked across it. Fifteen hours. That’s all it took for wildlife to recognize and use a safe passage built for them. The moment felt like a small miracle. It showed how quickly nature responds when we choose protection over exploitation.

Wildlife bridges save lives — both animal and human. They reconnect fragmented habitats. They give species a fighting chance. And they prove that when we invest in solutions, we see results.

So yes, today’s headlines were heavy. But that photo of the deer on the new bridge offered a spark of hope. Even in difficult times, progress is still possible — and worth fighting for.

We only get one planet. Let’s do everything we can to protect the wild places that make it extraordinary.


 

Old North Church: Lanterns, Legends, and a Cat Named Prince

One if by Land and 2 if by sea the Steeple of the old North church proudly overlooks Bosotn Harbor


Old North Church: A Guided Tour by Prince, Feline of

Photo Credit Sherrie Kling

Distinction

Greetings, humans.
I am Prince, former resident, unofficial greeter, and rightful overseer of Old North Church in Boston. Yes, that Old North Church — the one with the lanterns, the Revolution, the teenagers ringing bells, and the crypt full of people who, frankly, should have picked warmer accommodations.

Please keep your hands and snacks inside the tour at all times.

 


First, the Lanterns (My Steeple, My Rules)

You may have heard the story:
“One if by land, two if by sea.”
Two lanterns hung in the steeple on April 18, 1775, signaling that the British were coming by water.

Very dramatic. Very historic.
Personally, I would have added a third lantern to indicate “bring treats,” but no one asked me.

Still, it’s a good story, and the humans seem proud of it, so I allow it.


The Crypt: 1,100 Humans, Zero Cats

Beneath the church lies a crypt with more than 1,100 burials. It’s dim, atmospheric, and full of history.

I used to stroll past the entrance, tail high, as visitors whispered things like:

“Do you feel that chill?”
“Yes, that’s me. I’m majestic.”

The crypt tours are fascinating — if you enjoy early American history, architecture, or the feeling that someone from 1772 might be judging your footwear.


Paul Revere: Bell‑Ringer, Horse Enthusiast, Not a Cat

Before he became the midnight‑riding icon of American lore, Paul Revere was a teenage bell ringer here. Imagine a young Revere hauling on ropes, sweating, learning rhythm, and absolutely not noticing the very handsome cat supervising from the balcony.

Humans love this detail.
I prefer to think of it as “the time Paul Revere worked for me.”


My Reign at Old North

I lived here in the 19th century, adored by parishioners, tourists, and anyone with a lap. I attended services, greeted guests, and patrolled the pews with the dignity of a creature who knows he is the most important thing in the room.

Some say I “acted like I owned the place.”
I say: acted?


Why You Should Visit (According to a Cat Who Knows Things)

Old North Church is one of those rare places where history feels alive — lanterns, crypts, bells, legends — all wrapped in the charm of a building that has seen centuries of stories.

And if you listen closely, you might still hear echoes of:

  • Revere’s bells
  • Footsteps in the crypt
  • And the faint, regal purr of a cat named Prince, supervising from somewhere just out of sight

Closing Thoughts from Your Feline Guide

Come visit. Explore the crypt. Climb the bell tower. Stand where the lanterns shone.
And when you do, remember:
I walked these halls first.

A stay at the historic Wings Neck Lighthouse is an unforgettable experience ideal for romance and relaxation.

Stay the Night in a New England Lighthouse

 


 

 

Rose Island Lighthosue offers lighthouse eenthusiasts an opportunity to enjoy a stay in a real lighthouse

🌟 Yes, You Can Sleep in a Lighthouse

If you’re a lighthouse buff with a secret dream of spending the night in a keeper’s house — or just want to play Lighthouse Keeper for a weekend — good news. It’s not as impossible as it sounds.

Across New England (and beyond), several historic lighthouses actually rent out their keeper’s quarters for overnight stays. Some are rustic, some are surprisingly cozy, and all of them come with unbeatable views.

Here are just a few options close to home:

🏠 Stay in a Lighthouse: New England Edition

  • Wings Neck Lighthouse — Pocasset, Massachusetts
  • Rose Island Lighthouse — Newport, Rhode Island
  • Borden Flats Lighthouse — Fall River, Massachusetts
  • Little River Lighthouse — Cutler, Maine
  • Saugerties Lighthouse — Saugerties, New York
  • Race Point Lighthouse — Cape Cod, Massachusetts

And that’s just the East Coast. There are dozens more scattered across the country.

For a full list of lighthouse stays — from rugged island towers to beautifully restored keepers’ homes — the United States Lighthouse Society keeps a comprehensive directory of overnight lighthouse rentals.

A perfect getaway for anyone who loves history, ocean views, or the idea of waking up to the sound of waves hitting the rocks.


 

Bridge of Flowers Opens for the Season

The Bridge of Flowers in Shelburne, MA is open for the season. This one‑of‑a‑kind flower‑covered trolley bridge is cared for by skilled gardeners and volunteers, making it the perfect spot for a quiet, restorative stop. Enjoy the blooms — and take care of the environment while you’re there.

The Bridge of Flowers announces it's annual spring opening

The Bridge of Flowers began as a simple trolley bridge, reborn as a public garden in 1929.  The Bridge of Flowers Committee lovingly cares for the floral displays  season after season for everyone to enjoy. Open from May to October.

A Tale of Two Lighthouses

Graves light takes a pounding from the sea at the entrance to Boston Harbor's deep water channel


Graves Light: Boston Harbor’s Outer Sentinel

Lighthouses have always been the quiet guardians of the coast — part warning, part welcome, standing where the sea turns unpredictable. In my last post, Boston Light played the role of the harbor’s warm lantern, guiding ships safely home. Just a few miles away, though, another tower tells a very different story. Graves Light, perched on a scatter of ledges at the edge of the deep‑water channel, wasn’t named for sailors’ graves at all, but for Rear Admiral Thomas Graves, an early Massachusetts figure. Its job has always been the opposite of Boston Light’s: not to beckon ships inward, but to warn them away from danger.


A Lighthouse Built for the Hard Work

Completed in 1905, Graves Light is the tallest lighthouse in Boston Harbor and by far the most exposed. Its granite blocks were quarried in Rockport and pinned into the ledge like a stone corkscrew — because anything less would have been torn apart by the Atlantic. This tower wasn’t built for charm. It was built to take a beating.

And it still does.

 


Still Active — Even in Private Hands

In 2013, Graves Light made headlines when it was sold at auction for $933,888, becoming one of the most expensive lighthouse sales in U.S. history. The new owners restored the tower itself — floors, windows, dock, solar power — but the light and fog signal remain federal property.

The U.S. Coast Guard still operates:

  • the modern beacon
  • the fog horn
  • the official charted signal: Fl (2) W 12s

So yes, Graves Light is still an active aid to navigation, even though the building is privately owned. The tower belongs to people; the warning still belongs to the sea.


Two Lights, Two Jobs

Graves Light and Boston Light sit on opposite sides of the deep‑water channel — only about 3.5 miles apart, but doing completely different work.

  • Graves Light stands on the outer edge, flashing its stern warning:
    “Danger here — avoid the ledges.”
  • Boston Light waits farther in, offering the softer message:
    “Safe water ahead — welcome to the harbor.”

Mariners once treated them as a sequence: clear the danger, then follow the welcome home.

Boston Light and Graves Light, two guardians of Boston harbor


The Zoo Ship Wreck of 1938

One of the strangest events tied to Graves Light came in 1938, when the steamer City of Salisbury ran aground near the ledges in thick fog. Its cargo?
A traveling zoo shipment — monkeys, parrots, pythons, cobras, and other exotic animals.

Most survived, and newspapers gleefully reported “snakes loose in Boston Harbor.” Graves Light has seen its share of storms, but that day it witnessed a circus.


A Hollywood Cameo

Graves Light even had a moment on the silver screen. It appears in the storm sequence of the 1948 film Portrait of Jennie, where the tower is cast as a brooding, windswept sentinel. Even if you’ve never seen the movie, it’s a fun bit of trivia — one of the few times this rugged lighthouse slipped into Hollywood’s imagination.

 


A Sentinel You Can Still See Today

If you take one of the harbor or lighthouse cruises, you’re almost guaranteed to see both Boston Light and Graves Light in a single sweep of the horizon. Coming out from the harbor, you first pass the civilized silhouette of Boston Light, with its keeper’s house and outbuildings tucked neatly on Little Brewster Island. And just beyond it, rising straight from the gray Atlantic, stands Graves Light — taller, starker, and far more ominous. One welcomes you in; the other warns you away. Seen together, they tell the whole story of Boston Harbor in two towers.