The moon hangs like medicine in a spoon above the clouds. It is an achingly beautiful fall night, but it isn’t fall anymore, or at least it shouldn’t be. Seasons here have always been punctuated with exclamation marks as cars are trapped under feet of snow and peppered with inevitable questions of whether or not Father Winter would ever lose his grip towards mid-Spring. This year is different.
This year Father Winter hasn’t come. The trees let their leaves go on gusts of wind whispering their regrets. The ground momentarily stiffened and turned rain-washed roads’ rivulets into black ice. It seemed the earth was priming itself, as it usually does, for the return of the Father. But he never came. We’re left with barren trees and shorter days, but that howling wind creating drifts of snow is absent. Baited breaths held out for the eventual return as December slipped into the New Year and February disappeared into March, but to no avail; Father Winter wasn’t coming. Maybe, those fine boned creatures thought, the earth is finally being kind to us; maybe we’re not meant to move South. Hardier stock with thicker skulls felt apprehension for the future.
Climate change. They once called it global warming, but that was inaccurate. Climate change explained the planet’s malaise caused by humanity, global warming only concerned certain parts of the planet. Clean coal and the destruction of natural habitats were touted as the reasoning behind refraining from more energy efficient sources. Even the claim that poorer states could never afford to go off oil, though wealthier states suffered the consequences just the same later on. What it boils down to is this, we are all one to this planet. Recycle? Good for you. Mother Nature doesn’t hear you unless you change an entire nation’s approach to consumption.
So, here we are. The planet spins endlessly onward and the humans she hosts dig at her flesh. The rape of her resources was brutal and relentless. The leaders humanity chose were thoughtless and self-serving. The planet bleeds and humanity momentarily prospers, even as their young are doomed. Father Winter may never return in our lifetimes. Who’s to know?
