Hurricane Sandy

Hurricane Sandy off the Carolinas

Hurricane Sandy has dealt her devastating blow.

She was the largest storm to hit the northeast US.  Ever.

Why are we having 100 year storms, fires, floods and droughts, all in the same year?

Could something else be going on here?

It is time to end climate change silence.

It is happening, it is upon us.  What will it take for us to wake up and take it seriously?  Another record-breaking storm?  Another devastating drought?  More changes to arable land so that we can’t even grow enough food to feed ourselves?

There are forces against these wake-up calls – namely big oil and big corporates that trick us into wanting more, more, more.   They fund political campaigns, they fund television commercials telling us that it is not all so bad, and they change public perception for their own interests.

Much to our own peril, we continue to listen to these corporations instead of the dire warnings of 97% of climate scientists.  We continue to ignore the nagging notion in the back our heart that something is just not right.

Instead, we tell ourselves that our government has it under control, and that they will act in the best interests in the people and our future.

But our governments are not acting.  They are ignoring climate change and its devastating consequences.

Who will have the courage to end their part in climate change silence?

Who among you will start talking about it, writing about it, getting mad about it?

Who will speak for the children who have no voice, yet will inherit this very scary and uncertain future?

Who will start to care?

 

Green Dream

On March 25th, 2011 I had a dream.  A green dream.  It went something like this:

I wake up in the morning, pull back the covers of my organic sheets, slip on my slippers that I knit from local wool, and then jump into a 3 minute luke warm shower to wash my hair using shampoo I made from my own liquid soap, using all natural ingredients. Then I pop into a cute bamboo dress that looks the same as when I bought it 10 years ago and go and wake up my kids. Walking into their rooms I notice their all natural toys, made from sustainable wood or other materials. I help them get dressed, in beautiful clothes made out of hemp and organic cotton, all locally made, some sewed with loving care by me. We trundle down the hall for breakfast. I pull out the local organic oatmeal, top it with some local honey, blueberries from our own bush and slug of local organic milk. We then all eat our breakfast as the sun shines into the kitchen, over the leaves of our indoor herb garden, and talk about what we want to do that day.

We decide to check out our garden first, so we slip on our handcrafted shoes and step outside. First we check the tomatoes, and the kids each pluck off a plump cherry tomato from the vine and pop it into their mouths. We take a look at how the cucumbers and herbs were coming along, before moving onto the raspberry patch. These had mostly been picked already and were now nicely preserved in our house in the form of jam and syrup, with a few extras frozen as well. Next we notice the zucchini, some of which needs to be picked. My son runs and gets the basket, and my daughter carefully twists a few of them off the plant. We decide to pull out some carrots and potatoes also. The peas and beans had all been picked, and the extras are also now preserved in our house. We walk on and notice that the apples will be ready soon. We are still getting some strawberries on our everbearing plants, so we pop a few into the basket, and a few more into our mouths. We stopped to notice the lilies, daisies and corabells, swaying in the gentle breeze. We decide to sit down for a while, and just soak in the sunshine and watch the birds flit about in our great big tree.

Before going back into the house, I look up to our roof, where a series of solar panels are also soaking up the rays. I smile with the knowledge that we are actually producing more power than we are using these days. As we walk around the house to go back in, we walk past our rainwater storage tank, used to water our garden, and vital for an emergency drought situation.

Back inside the kids and I decide to go to the new exhibit at the museum downtown. So I pack a light lunch of sandwiches made from homemade bread, some of our strawberries, some local cheese and water decanter for each. We set off for the bus stop. A hybrid bus pulls up to greet us and takes us off to our destination.

After the museum, we decide to pop into the library to pick out some books we are each interested in. On the bus ride home, we sit together and reflect what we saw and learned at the museum. Once home, the kids go off and do their own thing while I whip up a couple fresh new loaves of bread using local flour, and watch the birds out the window as I knead the dough, back and forth, back and forth. I set the dough to the side to rise for an hour or so, and then wash the dishes by hand using liquid soap I made myself. I then decide to put on a load of laundry into my ultra efficient washer, and use my homemade laundry soap. I hang up the clothes to dry on the line outside, where the sun is just starting to get a bit lower in the sky. I notice and appreciate each article of clothing as it passes through my hands.

My husband comes home, and is carrying a reusable glass jug of organic milk that he picked up on his walk home from the bus stop. I am just pulling the bread out of the oven, and the whole house is filled with the smell of bread goodness. We eat supper together – homemade pizza from local flour, topped with local organic goat cheese, tomato sauce I made last year from garden tomatoes and preserved, as well as other goodies from our garden. My husband and I savour a glass of cherry wine that we made ourselves last fall from our own cherry tree. Later on that evening, we all sit together and play music and talk to each other. I knit a new wool sweater for my daughter – it is a dark cherry red colour, and will be perfect for fall.

The sun starts to go down, so we switch on one LED powered light. The kids go off to bed. We pour another glass of wine and look out the window at the stars.