Outside In: COP21, Paris
By Brynna Golden A gust of wind jolted the airplane and smushed my sleeping face into the cool oval window to my left. The cold tremor woke me quickly from my short travel nap. I stretched and pressed my groggy cheek back to the glass. In the dim light I could barely make out some massive swaths of white and dark, patch-worked over the earth below me. I couldn’t tell if the divide was...