late Winter icicles, last year, Taylors Falls
Photo by J. Harrington
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A week or two ago I threw a couple of salt tablets onto the roof above the front porch to help keep things flowing the last time we had an overflow-melting-icing event. Then we got more snow and freezing rain and drizzle and grep and whatever. It appears that adapting to a more volatile climate may be considerably more challenging that adjusting to one that changes and stabilizes. Maybe the good folks at Davos could lean harder on current government leaders or fund only those who are committed to following as expediently as possible the Drawdown solutions. There doesn't seem to me to be much sense in being a "1%" 'er on a ruined planet.
It might also help if the rest of us would come to our senses and, at least in democracies, choose leaders who are sane, responsible and ready to put the nation's good ahead of their own. That's what this year is likely to be all about in the U.S.
As Greta Thunberg noted at the World Economic Forum in Davos:
“Let’s be clear. We don’t need a ‘low carbon economy.’ We don’t need to ‘lower emissions,’” she said. “Our emissions have to stop.”
For emissions to stop, we need to rebuild and replace much of our existing infrastructure systems. Meanwhile, we're spending lots of time and political capital on the impeachment of someone who isn't qualified and shouldn't have been allowed to run for, let alone be selected by the Electoral College to pretend to be POTUS. Can we impeach the Electoral College, or at least send it to the penalty box?
Last Snowman
by Simon Armitage
He drifted south
down an Arctic seaway
on a plinth of ice, jelly tots
weeping lime green tears
around both eyes,
a carrot for a nose
(some reported parsnip),
below which a clay pipe
drooped from a mouth
that was pure stroke-victim.
A red woollen scarf trailed
in the meltwater drool
at his base, and he slumped
to starboard, kinked,
gone at the pelvis.
From the buffet deck
of a passing cruise liner
stag and hen parties shied
Scotch eggs and Pink Ladies
as he rounded the stern.
He sailed on between banks
of camera lenses
and rubberneckers,
past islands vigorous
with sunflower and bog myrtle
into a bloodshot west,
singular and abominable.
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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