White desk with pink notebook, roses, keyboard, and gold paperclips that Francesca Varela uses to write environmental fiction

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  • Cathartes aura

    1–2 minutes

    I wait at the bus stop, in the grass, as the cars scuff by. There is a hint of sunset behind the road, behind the skyscrapers, and the houses feel empty as dawn. In this moment I look up. Three turkey vultures circle each other; they dance like kites, smooth, their shadows lengthening, their features

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  • Lupine

    1–2 minutes

    Lupine smell like nothing at all. Their hooded flowers feel like paper and like rain. Tiny ants climb their stems, up and down on the small hairs. A bee lands on a purple bud, makes its way in, and then leaves to find the lupine’s brethren. In their roots, lupine fix nitrogen, and I imagine

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  • The Summer Sky

    1–2 minutes

    I wander away from the lights. I look for the darkened air, where the bats are felt but not seen. Wildfire smoke smudges the horizon. I crunch over the grass and the gravel until, finally, I am far from the cabin. I look up. Past the smoke, in the clear zenith, vega hangs emptily, spaciously,

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  • My Plastic Free July Journey

    2–4 minutes

    This month I decided to participate in Plastic Free July, a worldwide initiative to encourage the reduction of everyday plastic usage. Aside from being made from fossil-fuels, plastic takes millennia to biodegrade, polluting our rivers and oceans–and their animal inhabitants–in the meantime. Many plastic products are designed to only be used once, which makes their

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Learn more about Francesca Varela's novels