Silent Spring
Once upon a time there was a small town in the heart of America, where life seemed to live in harmony with its surroundings. The town sits on a chessboard, a hillside of thriving farms with acres of land and orchards, and in spring green flowers drift across the green fields. In the fall, a blaze of color blooms on oaks, maples and birches, swaying in a grove of pine trees. Then the fox barked in the hills and the deer moved silently across the fields, half hidden in the mist of the autumn morning.
Along the roads, laurels, corals, alders, ferns and wildflowers delight the traveler's eyes through the year. Even in winter, the roadside is a beautiful place with countless birds coming to eat the berries and heads of seeds on the dry weeds above the snow. In fact, the countryside is famous for the richness and variety of its bird life, with people traveling from great distances to observe them when the vast influx of immigrants arrives in spring and autumn. Others went fishing in the creeks, which flowed clear and cold from the mountains, and contained hidden pools where the trout lay. Many years ago when the first settlers raised their houses, sank their wells, and built their barns.
Then a strange disease spreads to the area and everything begins to change. Some evil spell is solved in the community: a mysterious disease sweeps through flocks of chickens, and cattle and sheep fall ill and die. The shadow of death is everywhere. Farmers spoke of many diseases in their homes. Around town, doctors are increasingly baffled by a new disease emerging among their patients. There have been several sudden and inexplicable deaths among adults, and even among children, who were suddenly injured while playing and died within hours.
There was a strange silence. For example, the birds, where have they gone, many people talk about them, confused and disturbed. The feeding station in the backyard was empty. Several dying birds could be seen everywhere, trembling violently and unable to fly. It was a silent spring. Where the mornings once sang with the dawn chorus of robins, cats, doves, birds, wrens, and the voices of many other birds there were now no voices; only silence lay in the fields, woods, and marshes.
On the farm, the hens laid eggs, but no chicks hatched. Farmers complained that they could not raise any pigs - the litters were small and the young lived only a few days. The apple trees are blooming, but there are no bees buzzing among the flowers, so no pollination, no fruit.
The roadside was once so attractive, but now the brown and withered vegetation on both sides seems to have been burned by fire. These too are silent, abandoned by all living things. Even the streams were lifeless. Anglers no longer visit it because all the fish are dead.
A few flakes of white granular powder are still visible in the gutters under the eaves and between the tiles of the roof; a few weeks ago it fell like snow on roofs, lawns, fields and rivers.
No witchcraft, no enemy action, silenced the new life of this stricken world. The people themselves did it.
This town doesn't actually exist, but it could easily have a thousand counterparts in the United States or elsewhere in the world. I know of no community that has experienced all the misfortune I have described. However, every disaster happens somewhere, and many real communities have suffered their fair share of disasters. A terrifying ghost barely notices us, and this imagined tragedy could very well become a harsh reality we all should know.
What silences the sounds of spring in countless American towns? This book is an attempt to explain.
Silent Spring composed by Rachel Carson