Posts Tagged ‘global warming’
Summer Remnants
The end is near. The scenery is reflecting the change of seasons in a variety of places around our property. The trumpet vine sprouted one last blossom that stands out like an emphatic exclamation.
There is evidence of fruit on one of our grape vines. I fear we may have waited too long to harvest.
The spell of abnormal heat is predicted to break tomorrow, with a hint of possibility we could get a little precipitation this afternoon to help usher in the change. Any moisture will be welcome because the earth around here is much drier than our trees deserve.
Could a cold and wet October await? That would be a wonderful surprise at this point. It is time for the remnants of summer to disappear once and for all this year. That was then. This is now.
We Northlanders get a little flummoxed when the weather here stays “San Diego nice” for too long without interruption.
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Summer Heat
September is a great month for planting grass seed. Yesterday, with the high temperature reaching 86°F, the baby grass blades sprouting in the area where Cyndie had scattered seeds needed a big drink of water.
I pulled out the ATV and hooked up the trailer with our water tank and sprayer. I don’t think we’ve used this watering system in a year. The battery that drives the pump was still good, but the spray mechanism sure wasn’t.
There must have been water in it over the winter that froze and cracked the plastic. Cyndie operated it like a hand-held sprinkler. It got the job done. A replacement is on order.
Even though we got two coats of sealant on the asphalt driveway earlier this summer, there continue to be some small cracks emerging that I fear might be related to tree roots pushing up from below. I picked up some crack filler and took advantage of the high heat to apply several patches.
An 80-degree day in the fall feels a lot hotter than it would during the summer. At least we get the benefit of a quick cool-down as soon as the sun drops below the horizon.
If there weren’t so many ongoing crazy issues related to the destruction of our democracy, I might notice that the planet is still getting overcooked by the unabated burning of fossil fuels.
You’d think the fresh bit of sunburn on my nose yesterday would maybe have gotten my attention.
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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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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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Record Year
It’s a dubious honor, indeed, as our planet continues to simmer to increasingly frightening degrees (pun intended).
It’s pretty extreme to see the data so far above any previous record for such a consistent duration. You’d think the weather might start to reflect the conditions by growing more dramatic in intensity, bringing stronger hurricanes/typhoons, more intense hail in thunderstorms, and soaking rains that trigger flooding.
Oh, wait. That’s already happening all over the world. Yikes.
At least we got the rotting truss replaced on the log house up at the lake place.
All that remains is getting the new logs stained and sealed to match the rest of the structure. The roof is once again safely supported in case any wild climate-intensified weather makes its way to Hayward (WI).
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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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Mamma’s Back
Asher is very excited to find that Cyndie is back in his life again. When the garage door rumbled to life last night, Asher sprung to his feet from a dead sleep. We were up in the loft watching Minnesota’s State High School Hockey Tournament. Well, I was watching. Asher was napping.
We got along well enough in Cyndie’s absence but Asher knows who the real momma is. Now he can get back to playing us against each other to get his way when he wants something.
I’m looking forward to having a break from being the full-time dog trainer that I’d rather not be. That’s not because Asher isn’t making good progress with the things we are trying to teach. I’d just rather not be constantly thinking about the process and whether I am saying and doing all the right things at the right times.
My brain is in entertainment mode with the glorious spectacle of the High School Hockey Tournament games showing on TV. I’m really impressed with the level of play from these young athletes. More than their physical prowess in skating and stick handling, it’s the good decisions they make that stand out. Plus, there isn’t an obvious difference between the best lines and the “not-as-best.”
Also, the goalkeeping is incredibly sharp.
The only thing missing is a tournament snowstorm. That used to be a thing. Not so much anymore. Certainly, not this year. I saw that the planet just experienced a record for the world’s warmest February which was also the 9th month in a row with record temperatures. Seems like a trend.
If that keeps happening, it’ll hardly be worth the trip to Florida in the winter. I really like having occasional opportunities to get a taste of living alone when Cyndie is gone but speaking on Asher’s behalf, he would definitely prefer having Momma not travel.
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Freaky Swing
We are living it. Is there some way to fully comprehend ‘crazy’ when we are smack dab in the middle of it? The weather drama of well-predicted impacts from a warmer climate keeps playing out right before our very eyes.
I recently watched two movies about real events that happened in my lifetime. The first was a documentary about the disastrous last flight of the space shuttle Challenger and the second was an actor-depicted retelling of the GameStop stock adventures that happened during the pandemic.
When I see these kinds of movies, I struggle to recapture my perceptions of the events at the time they were playing out. It all comes up rather blurry in my mind compared to the clear and orderly hindsight offered in such films.
If someone eventually makes a movie in the future depicting all the series of weird weather, fires, flooding, and souped-up storms we have been experiencing, will it come across as more explicitly obvious than how we perceive it now? It should.
I suspect it will make us all look bad for how slow or ultimately ineffective we were in reducing carbon emissions.
On Tuesday, it warmed to 53°F by afternoon, and then clouds rolled in bringing snow, gale-force winds, and a drop in temperature to a mere 4°F by yesterday morning.
The average high for the Twin Cities is 35 for the coming weekend. We are expecting temperatures in the 50s and 60s. What a whiplash.
The horses didn’t seem overly ruffled by the extreme temperature swing overnight Tuesday. By the time Asher and I showed up at the barn in the morning yesterday, the wild winds that made eerie sounds all night long had calmed significantly.
The surface of the driveway had a wicked glaze over it. The truck delivering bags of feed almost didn’t make the corner when turning into our driveway. Luckily, she stopped before sliding all the way off the pavement.
By noon, the bright sunshine had cleared off most of the asphalt surface.
Today is the occasion of Leap Day. February has been so unusual weather-wise, the ‘every-4-years’ addition of one day hardly seems worth mentioning.
Not that I’d notice it happened if you showed me a movie about it three years from now.
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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 