Slow and steady makes the web
This morning on the drive to school we saw the moon for the first time in what feels like weeks. The kid has always been a bit moon fixated, and the surprise this morning was a nearly full one, peeking over the woods at us.
Thomas Friedman said global warming won’t come necessarily as something we’ll see in our daily lives but instead will be something the post office delivers: higher energy and insurance bills. It’s not so much global warming, he says, but global weirding. And “weird” is one word a person could ascribe to this year’s weather in much of the U.S.
I tried not to think about the record rain we have had when I put my boots on this morning. Records: what do they really mean to me, I thought: I have only been here four years and every year we appear to have a period of record rainfall. Who cares if it’s a record. Its effects are the same. Lots of rain (or its opposite, or heat, or cold) are not exactly welcome. If one is a gardener, one tends to lobby for moderation. I do not appreciate this weekend’s exceptionalism.
So, boots on feet, I step lightly through the gardens, wondering what all that rain really means to us. My coffee is warm but the air is damp and chilly, and the week’s sunny forecast can only be good news for what I see in the gardens. I have to stop myself from going into crisis mode, the mode which one jumps to to bail out one’s basement, say; or grabs the pellet gun at the first shrill cry of the chickens. Slow and steady, things will dry. Time to sit back and wait.
I’m not very good at sitting and waiting, though. With the financial crisis, climate change, this election…I am more jumpy than ever.