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Alaskans for Global Warming--Maybe Winter has failed to arrive yet, and it’s downright spooky. It’s raining outside, and that is positively unnatural, if you ask me. This is the kind of weather that keeps the trees awake, and they need their rest. If they don’t get it, they’ll be tired and stressed, and there’s nothing sadder than a cranky spruce tree that’s been kept up too long. They sort of pine away, and become subject to infestations of beetles and other pests. It’s not pretty. Just look what’s happening to the south of us, where spruce beetles have devastated the forest for miles and miles. I’ve heard lots of people saying how pleasant it is that it’s so warm, and I have to admit, I don’t mind being able to dress like a human being rather than like a sausage roll with stuffing. Still, this weather is frightening. This is the kind of weather that melts permafrost. It’s also the kind of weather that brings Californians and other southerners north, and fools them into thinking that the weather up here isn’t so bad after all--why, the locals must have been spinning tales to keep the cheechakoes away. So they buy houses and settle in. I keep thinking that eventually the weather will turn Alaskan with a vengeance, but no, it has been staying warm, for several winters. We’ve only had brief little cold snaps. For years, those in high places refused to believe that global warming was a fact, pooh-poohing the scientific community. Some, like certain members of our congressional delegation, were vociferous in their denials of its reality, as they are of anything that smacks of (gasp!) environmentalism. Now, many of the same individuals have wised up, or determined that there is political advantage in giving lip service to climate change. The jury is still out on whether these changes are human-triggered or part of a natural cycle that would have happened even without the industrial revolution, but there is strong suspicion that human actions are causing other, related problems like the ozone holes, and that we’ve given a good boost to global warming. From what I’ve read and heard, there appears to be virtually no doubt in the scientific community that climate change is a fact. The eerie warmth of this winter has resulted in some interesting side effects. One that made the news, of course, is the recent rain that covered the roads in ice and caused the eleven-car pileup on the Richardson, among other things. I was born and raised here, and in 41 years I’ve never seen schools closed on account of ice, until this winter. Cold, yes, snow, sure, ice smog, yep. But not ice. That was a problem for Anchorage, or Seattle. Not Fairbanks. Sleet was something I’d never seen here, not once. It’s as though the 64th parallel is now the 54th, or the 46th. Makes me wonder what’s happening to weather down south. Another effect is not one that I’ve heard about, although there is probably a biologist or two who may have noticed it: there seem to be an uncommon number of voles about. I notice it because my cats keep bringing them in to the house and letting them go. They normally do this, of course, but not in such numbers. I suppose this means that there are an unusual number of voles awake and running about outside. It might be a peak year, of course, or it may be that the lack of snow means they can’t hide as well. In either case, this means a fat year for predators of small beasties. But what about next year? The sustained warmth makes me nervous. I wonder what will happen if we get a sudden drop in temperatures--there go the perennials. This has happened a few times in recent years. Last year almost all my lilies went, and most of my chives, which are usually as tough as nails. My husband swears that he saw some pussy willows, but most plants around here are too clever to be fooled by a warm spell, even a long one--they count on length of day to tell them when to get the ol’ sap moving. That way they don’t get killed by a sharp plunge into below-zero temperatures. What scares me more, however, is the thought that the temperatures won’t drop, or at least, not to the usual levels. Aside from the lack of good stories to tell relatives and friends Outside, like coffee evaporating before it hits the ground, I have visions of houses sinking into bogs as the permafrost melts beneath them, roads cracking and splitting with giant potholes appearing overnight, swarms of Arizonans moving north to escape 110+ temperatures, malaria and other diseases moving north with new and exciting varieties of tick, fly, and flea, invasive weeds taking on and crowding out the local wildflowers, a sudden boom in the mosquito population, and countless other horrors involving the slow change of a subarctic landscape to a temperate one. Ick. Of course, if the temperature doesn’t drop, my lilies and other bulbs may just flourish next summer, so that’s some consolation. I used to love the Alaskans for Global Warming bumper sticker, and I wanted one for my vehicle, but this winter has me worried. The joke strikes too close to home. Brrr! | ||
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