Dear Ocean City Beach (and All the Shrinking Shores)
You were never supposed to need saving.
You were the savior — the healer.
You took in our footprints, our broken bottles, our children’s laughter,
and somehow turned them all into something softer.
But now you’re vanishing.
Dragged away grain by grain by a climate we keep pretending we can negotiate with.
We call it erosion — as if it were neutral, as if it weren’t also our doing.
We build too close, drive too often, buy too much, and burn what can’t be unburned.
And then we act surprised when the tide doesn’t wait for us anymore.
The politicians will call it a “state of emergency,”
but for you, the emergency has been every high tide that hits higher.
Every storm that stays longer.
Every decision we’ve postponed in the name of convenience.
And I’m sorry, old friend.
I’m sorry we treated you like scenery instead of sanctuary.
I’m sorry that we loved your sunsets but not your science.
That we worshipped your beauty while wounding your body.
But I promise you this:
some of us are done pretending that recycling is enough.
We’re done whispering about carbon and calling it compromise.
We’re ready to shout your name — Ocean City, LBI, Cape May, Malibu, Miami —
and say that losing you isn’t an option.
Because this isn’t just about sand.
It’s about stewardship.
It’s about the radical idea that love requires responsibility —
and that saving the planet isn’t political, it’s personal.
So here’s my love letter, sealed not in a bottle but in action:
fewer flights, less plastic, more pressure on those in power.
And more quiet walks on what’s left of your golden skin,
promising I’ll do better —
for you,
for all the shrinking shores,
and for the future still washing up on them.
With love and rage,
— The Radical Left