Yet my bones…

scope creep is epic and predictions dire

Today is a day to behold! The sun has raised the temperature to the mid-40’s, phoebes and chickadees flit and sing, the Concord’s whitewater is running, here where spring has sprung early. Blue skies and just-emerging buds. Rain fell last night, but didn’t soak the ground. There’s barely enough run-off to fill thirsty watersheds. In the midst of climate change, this winter’s warmth predicts a tic-heavy season to come. We take such known changes in stride, and adapt as a matter of fact. Yet the scope creep is epic and predictions dire. The speed of arctic melt is accelerating. Coastlines erode apace, toward the disappearance of half of all beaches by the end of this century. What the human eye can see in real time just does not compute with these projections. Yet my bones and cartilage, reptilian brain, my sinews and skin, my imagination, all of me is aware of the great existential threat we face. I am beholden to learn now, fight now and act now. To pray now, give now, ache now, love now. To know that all is here is now. And to live accordingly.

Concord River running behind Bagshaw Mills, Lowell MA (photo by Emily Ferrara)

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