Author

Mike Bond

Mike Bond has 5 articles published.

Mike Bond is an environmental and human rights activist and a long-time advocate of renewable energy. His background includes participation in operations with Kenyan rangers against elephant poachers, and time spent as a Financial Times Paris energy correspondent. Bond is a former international energy company CEO, and was advisor to over 70 of the world's largest utilities and energy companies. He was heavily involved in Al Gore’s presidential campaign, representing the Vice President on renewable energy issues. Bond is committed to many environmental issues in his home state of Maine and is the author of Saving Paradise and the upcoming novel, The Last Savanna.

Correspondent Mike Bond asks: Can we war less?

in Thrillers by

Lebanon was a paradise when I first arrived there as a young man. The golden sun and brilliant sea, the ancient streets, the hubbub of cultures, the food and wines, the tanned and sensual young women, the perfume of many million flowers, the pine hills and cold white peaks, all imbued it with a near-sacred substance. This, I felt, is a place where all peoples come together, vibrant with history, wisdom, lust, and delight. Civil war soon turned Lebanon into a battlefield of smashed buildings and bloody streets. Syria was one of the loveliest places on our planet. Damascus, Homs and other cities so old that every handful of dust was thick with centuries of human flesh and blood. Iridescent…

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Why we love adventure

in Potpourri by

As a kid I was often late for dinner because I was wandering the forest and didn’t want to come home. It was a huge forest of low rolling hills, stony ridges, valleys and swamps, alive with bear, deer, raccoons, cottonmouths, water moccasins and hundreds of other wild species – an absolute Paradise for a boy of eight. Day after day I’d find new valleys, climb a different rocky outcrop to a new vista and then want to go there, beyond that vista and see what could be seen from there. It’s always been the same – to reach an unknown spot then see the distant rocky horizon and wonder what’s over that mountain range. What undiscovered country lies beyond,…

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Sleeping with elephants on New Year’s Eve

in Non-Fiction by

We were camping near the Tsavo River in southern Kenya. A quiet New Year’s Eve, my wife and I on cots under mosquito nets, our youngest son (nine) stretched out on the jeep’s front seat with the windows closed against mosquitoes, and the two older boys on cots under mosquito nets in a canvas tent. It was one of those soft and lovely Kenya nights – a warm breeze carrying a taste of water and of the surrounding savanna that has heated all day under the sun. We’d had a splendid New Year’s dinner of peanut butter on undercooked banana bread and water purified with iodine. It had been a long day on the savanna and everyone was sleepy. A…

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There’s a Bear in My Sink!

in Potpourri by

BEFORE DAWN ONE MORNING there’s a noise in the kitchen, so I get up to see and there’s a bear sitting in the sink. His rump on one side, rear feet in the sink and front paws holding the compost bowl in his lap. Not a huge bear, just a couple hundred pounds of black glistening fur.  Behind him is the window he’s pried open. He looks at me, his expression Who the hell are you? “You’re going to get your little ass in trouble,” I admonish him. He shrugged – What can I do? I’m hungry. I opened the back door. “Out!” Down he flops from the counter, rear feet the size of tennis rackets, and ambles out. Next…

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My arrogant stupidity ended this beautiful life

in Potpourri by

My Uncle Ed ran a bar in Ellsworth, and in the early fifties bought a cabin on Toddy Pond. Nine miles long and a mile across, it had only a few cabins at the end of a long road. There was a beach with white pines on both sides, and the fir and balsam forest behind it stretched a hundred miles to Machias and the Canadian border. Blue Hill rose above the far end, and in early mornings every tree and stone and meadow on the mountain lay inverted on the lake’s silver surface. Moose wandering the shallows stood on their own reflections, and trout made perfect circles as they rose for flies. Mallards patrolled the shore dabbling and quacking, their tails…

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