For a moment, the story flashed on yahoo's news page--the arctic could be ice-free this summer. When I went back to read it, this story had been replaced by one in which an American baseball pitcher was placed on the disabled list in a freak pillow accident. I didn't read that story. In trying to find the arctic ice story online to follow up on it, I ran across the following:
from 23 August 2005
prediction: the arctic will be ice-free by 2105
from 12 December 2007
prediction: the arctic will be ice-free by 2013
And the story that caught my attention today:
prediction: the arctic will be ice-free this summer (that would be now, right?)
I get the feeling we can't really rely on science to give us accurate predictions of how we will be affected by global warming, and when. I read a story a couple of weeks ago about flooding in Iowa, where the crest of a river was a foot (!) higher than predicted. The weather forecasters lamented that the rain that had fallen had overwhelmed their models, and so they could not accurately predict the river crest. It was unprecedented. As was the dry lightning storm in California that was responsible for starting over 800 forest fires. Rare. So far. But not really.
So anyway, what can we do except deal with it? Floods, droughts, severe weather--this is common now, right? My daughter has personally seen a flood, suffered through droughts, ice storms, tornadoes, and even felt an earthquake, and she's just a kid. She's never seen hail, though. That should be a treat for her. We are fortunate right now to live on the higher flat land, away from abundantly overflowing rivers (smartly designed by the Army Corps of Engineers). We are having a good time gardening, watching the raspberries ripen over the course of a morning, and seeing the tomatoes grow a foot in a day. So far, so good.
Tomorrow, we spend time with our farmers at the market, and tomorrow afternoon, we commune in potluck with our food not lawns friends. A toast, to mother nature, wherever and whenever her furies fling us, we still take shelter within her restful arms. We drink of the bounty, and live out our lives in beauty. Adaptation is our hallmark.