Showing posts with label climate change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label climate change. Show all posts

Sunday, November 1

It's interesting!



"May you live in interesting times," states the old Chinese curse, and without doubt we do. Until the last decade I thought living in interesting times would be fun and exciting. Now I'm not so sure. The world is changing so quickly that even the calmest among us feels agitated and anxious. Before we can catch up with the events of last week, they have spun into newer more complex versions of themselves. We are lost in a sea of uncertainty while the worries of today and tomorrow lay in wait.

This interesting world is one we created and must now take responsibility for. We must conquer frustration and impatience and our own ignorance and solve our problems, including the most pressing, climate change—before which all other problems fade to oblivion. What good are your devices if no network exists, if there is no food or fresh water, if your home is under water, if the Gulf Stream has quit streaming?

Naomi Klein is a Canadian writer who gave six years and a great deal of thought to the problem of global climate change, and I recommend her book, This Changes Everything. It's not an easy book, but you will be glad you read it. There is also a documentary film by the same name.

Klein's book reminds us in heart-wrenching ways that this interesting world, this beautiful, endlessly fascinating globe spinning through space, is our only home, and we must protect it with the same strength and energy we protect our children or ourselves. There are ways to do this if we act quickly and with collective strength, and her well-documented book is an excellent resource, a good place to start.

But what we also need to do, I think, in addition to marching and writing letters and donating money, and paddling kayaks in opposition to Shell, is to remind ourselves of our selves—or our souls if you prefer. Our disconnect from Earth has grown slowly over time. Conveniences like electric light and steam generation; and coal, oil and gas, and the digital revolution, enticed us away from Earth's natural pace and rhythm. But ever so gently, so that we hardly noticed how alienated—and destructive—we have become.

I am lucky that I have easy access to the natural world and have learned that if I pay attention it will speak to me. The caw of a crow, the sound of wind through the firs, the sudden bolt of a young deer, all work to bring me back to the present. Suddenly I am out of my head and back on the pavement paying attention to now. Nature is willing to help us if we only pay attention.

And while a charming landscape is helpful, it's not required. We can attend while sitting in front of our always captivating screens by simply remembering that we are alive; that we are in the world now. We may not like where we are but what matters is that we acknowledge the moment, that fleeting moment that is gone before you can name it. Life and Earth are gifts, and acknowledging that, however briefly, will serve us all.

Wednesday, January 15

So, how's your weather?

The North & Middle Sisters of the Cascades, taken in October. 

When I opened my iPad and checked my weather app this morning I saw temperatures like this, beginning with today: 51, 54, 55, 56, 50, 50, 49, 50, 49, 49. Ten days of unusual warmth with no end in site, coming after several weeks of temperatures mostly in the 40s. And this at 3,000 ft elevation, at the foot of 10,000+ ft mountains, in January. This is not a typical winter.

Our Cascade snowpack, from which Oregon draws most of its water, was reportedly 32% on January 1. Since then we've had one brief storm that brought a little rain and an overnight snow of about one inch. It was gone by the following day.

I was thinking about this when I took my walk this morning. I looked at the tall pines and wondered if they would still be here a 100 years hence, or dead from heat and disease. I thought about the great reservoirs of underground water that feed the lovely Metolius and McKenzie Rivers, and pictured fishermen dropping their lines into isolated pools of stagnant water surrounded by the rocky debris of once great rivers. I passed a small herd of deer munching dead grass and thought about our little town without them.

We know that occasional weather events, like our unusual winter temperatures—here and in the east—are not evidence of global climate change. But if we're paying attention we also know that these changes have been increasing at an ever faster rate. The storms are bigger and more destructive, the temperatures more extreme. While the eastern half of the U.S. freezes, the southern hemisphere is suffering through an extended heatwave. In Australia, a hundred thousand bats have dropped dead from heat up to 122 degrees Fahrenheit. Parrotts, emus, and kangaroos are also dying from the heat. This is not a typical summer.

A recent report on Desmogblog.com, a popular site that tracks scientific climate research and related stories, indicates that out of 2,258 peer-reviewed climate articles by 9,136 authors, only one writer rejected man-made global warming. In a previous analysis the author, James Lawrence Powell, found that in 13,950 peer-reviewed articles between 1991 and 2012, just 24 scientists rejected global warming. He even offers his Excel spreadsheet of articles in case anyone wants to refute his analysis.

I don't want to refute it; I want to do something about it. But what? Wind and solar energy are helping (witness Germany's success with solar energy) and it appears we are driving less. But that isn't going to change things quickly enough. We're still allowing and subsidizing companies who do fracking and oil drilling. Coal is still being mined and shipped and burned. We haven't raised taxes on gasoline, or invested in clean, efficient mass transit. There's no political will to take meaningful action on this or any other problem facing us. It's beyond frustrating.

I love our planet. I love being outdoors. I love walking through wildness, listening to the quiet, and surrendering my worries to the magic of a wild river, forest, desert or seashore. Nature is one of our greatest blessings. That we have apparently withdrawn our protection of this gift leaves me deeply saddened. So what are we to do?

What are we to do?
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A report at mediamatters.org today shows just how little our national media have been covering this topic. For instance, "out of a year's worth of coverage, the Sunday news shows focused on climate change for 27 minutes, the most aired since 2009." This is shameful, and incredibly irresponsible given the dire warnings of climate scientists.