It’s February. Here in Chicago where I live, February is usually a dark and dreary month, cold, snowy, slightly depressing, and made for endurance.
It’s wonderful. It makes you feel hardy to go outside, shovel out the car, totter over to the train station, and walk into work. Where you can complain to your co-workers in a slightly congratulatory way about how bad it is outside, so that your own ability to make it into work becomes a feat worthy of note and praise: truly remarkable that we are able to function in this weather.
But right now, it is 61 and sunny. You don’t need a coat to go outside, a light sweater or sweatshirt will do. It’s actually quite lovely out. One feels like going for long walks. It could be late May.
And that is very weird indeed. So instead of really enjoying this gorgeous weather, one has an asterisk in your head. “It’s so beautiful* ….” *but it’s February in Chicago and that’s kind of odd.
It begins to feel like we are doomed. While I never doubted the scientists, I wanted them to be a bit off in their predictions: I wanted us to have a chance.
And it feels like … we may not. It may be too late. And there may be nothing we can do at this point to stop it.
This US government certainly won’t save us, as they decline to believe global warming exists, and rush to make everything much worse.
It’s 61 and sunny in Chicago today. It’s gorgeous out.*