Posts Tagged ‘climate change’
Dizzying Dissonance
The firehose of ridiculousness and the horrific is flowing at a dizzying rate from one main point in the country of the USA. The buffoon acting as the figurehead is busy spouting his aggressive desires to take over other countries and much of our own, by force if necessary, while simultaneously claiming himself to be the most peaceful person to ever deserve a peace prize.
It is so comical while being equally evil that the rest of the sane world seems to just stare, dumbstruck, wondering what the heck could possibly happen next to stop the madness.
Those who made this mess have no interest in stopping anything. As with so many realities of this world, it will likely get worse before things end up better.
Cyndie and I romp on our beautiful rural acres with our dog and horses, enjoying what diminishing features of winter remain. Rain in January has become the new normal for our position on the planet at this point in the warming climate. Asher behaves as if he doesn’t have a clue about the evil in motion in the world. His pure joy of chasing his rope-pierced Jolly Ball is a healing balm for our fractured sensibilities.
The horses, on the other hand, give off a different vibe. From everything we have come to know about the far-reaching sentience of these amazing equine beings, it doesn’t surprise me that they recognize the nastiness that humans are spewing into the world (again).
It means a lot to Cyndie and me to be able to give them our love and attention each day, letting them know we understand when they are uneasy. Having been rescued from some truly dire situations, our four horses are well familiar with what humans are capable of when acting at their worst. Every good thing we can do for them helps to heal whatever previous suffering they have endured in their lives.
The best thing we can do for ourselves amid the dizzying dissonance of the transition to an authoritarian state is to avoid the blasts from automated bots working for the propaganda machine and increase our loving attention to each other, our children, our friends, our neighbors, and all the animals in our care.
The little things we do matter in ways that too often get overlooked. As individuals, we can’t solve the threat of ICE agents murdering citizens, but we can help each other to cope with the storm of hatred rumbling over the country (and world).
Give a little extra love to people you encounter every day. Share a smile with someone you’ve never met. Give rise to a feeling of love for yourself and everyone you know.
The human race is so much better than the way the worst of people can make us all seem. Two different things can be true at the same time. It’s dizzying, I know.
I’m thinking about going outside to hug some of our trees. Then I’ll go retrieve the empty feed buckets from the horses on this picturesque Saturday morning.
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Predatory Behavior
Last Sunday, we were blessed with a visit from our kids for one last day of mirth before the return to regularly scheduled programming of the work world in 2026. The weather was a bit of a risk as we were under a warning for sleet and freezing rain. They braved the drive anyway, with utmost caution, and the weather didn’t turn out to be as bad as it could have been.
As soon as they headed home and Cyndie and I went down to tend to the horses, the murky sky opened up a bit for a sweet show at sunset.
Two days later, we received what I feel is the worst weather for winter: rain. Once again, the snow is a saturated mess. I took Asher for an afternoon explore, and he fixated on a dead tree trunk that he seemed certain contained a rodent snack.
I stood waiting while he worked furiously to gain access. Seeing him so harmlessly entertained is a reward worth allowing to play out uninterrupted, so I busied myself with tamping down the wet snow where I stood.
He showed no sign of giving up and began to attack the little trees in the immediate vicinity that were getting in his way. They served to fulfill his urge to chomp on things better than any of the artificial chew toys in his extensive collection in the house.
He worked on that effort for so long, my project of tamping snow grew to create a raised median at the intersection of the two trails where he was busy at it.
As much as I wished to let him play to his heart’s content, his distraction had lasted so long that it became time to feed the horses, and I was forced to call him off. We trundled away through the snow slurry toward the barn after a minor struggle to redirect his attention away from the prize he never reached.
If there was a mouse in there, I wonder what its experience was like during the onslaught. Did it assume there was an earthquake, or did it sense the telltale signs of a predator at its door?
I think I can relate to what it must have been like inside that hollow section of the tree limb. That is what it feels like every day for citizens of the United States under the criminal control of the current administration. If only there were someone who could call off the brutal regime and send them on their way.
That terrorized critter suffered for less than an hour. Our suffering shows no signs of abating.
To the rest of the world: I’m sorry you have to witness this, or worse yet, be directly impacted by the actions of the disgusting few who are systematically dismantling our country for their personal gain.
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Data Tapestries
It is not unusual for me to comment about how much the weather of my surroundings has changed in my lifetime. Beyond my first-person experience, I am greatly influenced by news of ever more intensified hurricanes, increased high-temperature extremes around the world, wildfires, droughts, and flash flooding downpours. I understand that the climate around the globe is changing, and I respect the data that has been recorded for enough years to reveal what is actually happening.
I recently read about tapestries made by crafters using data of the high temperature for each day of a year. That brought me to something called the National Parks Tempestry Project, where I discovered a wonderful representation of many U.S. National Parks and the “tempestries” created by volunteer crafters.
I don’t think the data revealed by the tapestries always looks as shocking in contrast as I’d expect, but it is interesting to compare the color trends from the wide variety of parks in this country.
They have created a beautiful web page for scrolling the large number of images that tell a story in a very different way from basic bar graphs on a page. If you haven’t seen this before, I recommend you click the image above to see for yourself. It’s impressive!
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B’bye Snow
After two days of 50°F temperatures during this final week of February, the snow has performed a quick disappearing act. Just four days ago, the American Birkebeiner ski race was held for the full distance in Hayward, WI. They lucked out with a couple of periods of snow falling in the nick of time so they didn’t need to shorten the race. Then, on the day after the main races, the warm weather moved in.
Our hay field at home now looks like it did back in November. Afternoons are becoming a muddy mess in the paddocks. At least I won’t get my quilt-lined Carhartt overalls dirty. No need to climb into our space suits this week. Heck, I haven’t even needed a coat in the middle of the last two days.
I watched a broadcast of the Minnesota Wild hockey game last night, and the commercials for Northland Ford and Toyota all-wheel drive vehicles to combat the snowy winter conditions looked rather comical, given the reality outside now. They could have been selling more motorcycles than trucks and SUVs.
Even the natural world is looking confused by this warm spell.
This furry little woolly bear caterpillar was slowly making its way across the driveway. I guess hibernation ended early this year.
It’s almost like the climate is undergoing a change or something. Ya think?
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Imaginary Problem
When something’s not right, does your mind wander toward the worst-case scenario? Mine did last night. Yesterday, we were “gifted” with a rain shower that would have been perfectly normal in the month of May. Unfortunately for me, it was the 27th day of December in a location that used to get snow instead of rain during the winter. Harumph.
I pulled up the images from our surveillance cameras and found nothing but a black screen from the barn view. It was late and rainy, and I didn’t want to trudge down to investigate, so I imagined what the problem might be. One possibility I came up with was that water had infiltrated my protective cover over the wiring to the camera and shorted out either the power or signal lines.
The other much worse possibility was that the remaining power line to the barn had failed, and the whole barn had lost electricity. That meant no lights and, more importantly, no heat on the water fountain for the horses. I would need to run a temporary cable from the shop and somehow hang it over the driveway high enough so delivery trucks wouldn’t snag it.
The moment this morning when I flipped the light switches up, my heart skipped a beat, but the lights came on, to our great relief. Also, a green indicator light on the camera showed it still had power. Hooray!
I unplugged the power to the camera for a minute or two to reset it and solved the problem with minimal effort. So much for my fatalistic imagination.
We continue to be blanketed by a thick fog that has the poor horses on edge because they can’t see the horizon to scan for threats.
Yesterday, there was still some ice in Paddock Lake, but it was all water this morning and topped to the brim.
I sure wish the warming climate was an imaginary problem. Maybe if we unplug insatiable greed and constantly increasing demands for land and air travel in fossil fuel-powered vehicles, we can reset things. Hahahaha!
I made myself laugh.
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Still Blooming
Nearing the end of the second week of October in my part of the world didn’t used to involve rose blossoms. These days, this kind of outdoor plant behavior is not all that surprising.
Asher and I were visiting the labyrinth to top off the water bag around the maple tree when I noticed the flowers. They stood out against the drought-influenced fading life and fallen leaves all around them. I was struck by the fact the rose bush was able to do so much with so little moisture available in the ground.
I must admit, it feels somewhat futile to try giving one tree a tiny bit of extra water while the rest of the growth in the surrounding woods is left wanting.
The fall colors have been less spectacular than some other years but it is changing.
As dusk settled in and the half-moon stood out brightly in the sky, the uncharacteristic warmth of a summer evening on this October night was simply the new normal.
While other parts of the world are coping with floods, our little nook in Wisconsin, USA, is warm and dry.
With rose blossoms.
Collective Action
What can I do about the ills of the world? My fallback attempt to make things better tends to rely on the age-old art of wishing. I wish wars would cease. I wish that criminals would never get away with it. I wish people wouldn’t fall for the rantings of lying politicians. I wish the world could figure out a way to adjust societies to function consistently year-round without moving clocks twice a year.
One belief I hold that is well within my abilities to practice and encourage others to take up is to practice LOVE with as much or more gusto as they do all the world religions. Drop all the centuries of concocted dogma and simply produce and share LOVE.
There is one dilemma where my solution of sending love as a fix may only be as effective as merely wishing for improvement: the over-cooking of our planet Earth.
My news feed recently led me to an opinion piece by climate scientist Bill McGuire offering, “If you knew what I know, you’d be terrified too.” It is posted on CNN.com and listed as a 4-minute read. I hope you will take the time.
https://www.cnn.com/2024/03/07/opinions/climate-scientist-scare-doom-anxiety-mcguire/index.html
The terrifying realities of the ongoing climate change underway are enough to scare people into doing nothing since it appears all is lost. Scientists who rant about the issue can get labeled as “doomers.”
I approve of Bill McGuire’s point that people can handle being scared and still rally to take action.
The bottom line is that many things in life are scary or worrying, from going to the dentist to noticing a potential sign of cancer, but ignoring them almost invariably results in something far worse happening down the line.
The key is finding a way to have hope. One of the ways to cultivate hope is by collective action.
There is a wikiHow that explains ways to become an Activist.
It will take more than simply wishing to solve all the ills of this world. Let’s all seek out a way to contribute positive energy toward groups of like-minded people, driving change that will lead to better outcomes for ourselves and those around us.
We all do better when we all do better. Paul Wellstone.
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Too Short
That all-too-brief taste of winter last week has left me wanting. It certainly isn’t all about me and what I want, but another 50°F day in February kind of made me sad yesterday, even as I luxuriated in an easy stroll down the driveway with the trash and recycle bins without wearing a coat.
I’m well aware of the break this offers to people who drive a lot or struggle to cope with cold and snow. I don’t begrudge the pleasure they must be feeling about the minimalist version of winter we are experiencing.
Scenes like these lasted too short for me…
I suppose if I would just pull out my bicycle and take advantage of the dry roads I might get over my mopey attitude.
I don’t know why, but I’m finding my mindset of longing for a more wintery winter is a difficult one to shift.
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Snowless Sadness
Being a snow lover during a snowless winter is a daunting burden for a sagging spirit. Seeking solace where I knew I could easily find it, I meandered my way through some of my photos from different winters now past. Ahh, those were the days…
They just don’t make ‘em like they used to.
There is always a chance we might experience a blast of snow between now and May. I will appreciate that when and if it happens, but I’m afraid anything yet to come will be too little, too late. For the people who try to earn a living wage by plowing snow for people, selling snow-related recreational equipment, or housing and feeding vacationers who engage in winter sports, the lack of snow is a complete disaster.
I’m just finding it deeply saddening in a multitude of ways.
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Snowmobile Trail
Yesterday afternoon, with the air temperature climbing above 50°F in February, this is what the snowmobile trail looks like where it crosses the road at the southeast corner of our property:
Not much sleddin’ happening this year.
Could be worse. At least we aren’t being subject to an atmospheric river of heavy rain, wind, and mudslides like the people of California are currently enduring.
For now, if suffering a lack of snow and cold during winter is the worst of climate change we experience, we have it better than a lot of other folks around the world. Sadly, I fear the lack of winter will trigger ripple effects that can present other challenges for us over time.
I’m concerned that our trees are going to sprout new buds too soon and then be at risk of a cold night killing the new growth. Just because it’s warm now doesn’t guarantee we won’t still experience some cold and snow later this month or next. Heck, we suffered through an 18” snowfall in early May the first year we moved here.
I don’t remember if they usually leave the signs up for the snowmobile trail that late in the year.
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Relative Something 