"They had all hung their hats on the question of proximity. Yes, it will be bad, they’d said to one another, but we have years. We have time. Somehow we’ll solve this along the way."
Two days ago it snowed where I live. We got a couple inches and I delighted in its beauty, taking a walk in the woods, admiring how it lay on the branches and carpeted the ground. I dressed in layers, keeping out the bitter wind and 20°-ish temps.
Yesterday it was 45° F. (7° C.) and the ground was green again. This morning I woke to a fresh blanket of white and it's been snowing since, dumping at least a couple inches of snow so far.
I checked the Weather Channel to see how much we would get, only to be told it was 44° (nope, in the 20s) and raining. More and more they get it wrong, way wrong.
Unlike when I was a kid, the snow no longer stays for weeks or even months. It snows and melts, snows and melts, the temperatures rising way above freezing after each ever shorter cold spell.
It's clear the climate has changed here, just as it has all over the world. It bothers me when people get excited about warm days in January. Yes, it's nice to not have to wear a coat and hat and gloves and boots. It's nice to not have mounds of snow that stick around for months. It's nice to turn off the heat and open the windows. But at what cost?
I find myself appreciating winter weather more and more, fearing it will become ever scarcer unless one ventures to the far North.
The days when many are joyous over warm temperatures in winter are the days I worry about the animals that need to hibernate for months and no longer can. I worry about all the species of flora and fauna that are dying out or migrating or needing to evolve too quickly to keep up.
Maybe I'm a pessimist, seeing only the bad, but warm days in winter sadden and disturb me. I don't think technology can save us. We have waited too long to act. I worry what the world will be like in 10 years. 20. 50. Will it be recognizable?
And now that I've got everyone needing to pop some Prozac -or at least wishing I would- let's talk about the book.
After a slow start in which I was alternately bored and mesmerized by the beauty of the author's writing, I fell in love with this novel. It is quiet, the kind in which you really get to know the characters' inner lives and which make you think. The kind I like best.
It alternates between the perspective of several characters, beginning with Frida, terrified as a hurricane approaches her home in Florida, reliving another that killed her mother.
Amidst this furious storm, her daughter Wanda is born. Wanda is the main character and we watch her grow as the waters rise.
Her life is about change and loss, yet she finds beauty where she can. She is resourceful - her life depends on it. She is strong - it's the only way to survive.
As the Florida coast recedes, slowly (or quickly, depending on which perspective you're coming from) consumed by the ocean, Frida must adapt in order to survive.
When I read clim-fic novels, I can't help but wonder if, decades from now, someone will read it and say, "Wow, that writer was really off. Look where we are, what technology has done, how far we've come! Life is better than it ever was and getting better every day".
Or if they will read it and say, "How naive those people were, thinking it would only be that bad".
In spite of the destruction in this novel, the writing is exquisite. I was mesmerized. If you like slow, quiet novels, I recommend this one. It filled me with melancholy and yet, at the same time, hope that we and the myriad forms of life on Earth can find a way to adapt in an ever more quickly changing world.
"Humans have spoiled so much, but nature is resourceful. It dies and is reborn as something new."