Killer World

So, wildfires the size of gorgeous Vancouver have been burning for nearly two days (some, for much longer). Apparently lightning and freakish climate conditions (lack of rain, heat wave, wind direction blowing smoke to the coast instead of inland) are to blame. Not only is this annihilating our tree population at a scary fast rate (how many trees fill a 200 square kilometre area?!), but it is also taxing our already-low water reserves to try to put it out. The result of the raging flames has been an intolerable smoke cover that has us seeing a blood-orange sun and amber skies for the entirety of yesterday.

Alas, some of my worst fears (I have many) seem to be coming to pass: 1) global warming is turning our beautiful Pacific North Northwest into a drought-induced desert akin to California, and 2) I can't breathe properly. Yes, we have air quality advisories in place for the area right now, because even with all of my windows closed in the middle of summer, it smells like a fire pit in here. Since we are also in the throes of a water ration, I am starting to wonder if kingdom come might just be nigh. If not, then please come soon Jesus, because a rapture is infinitely preferable to choking to death from debris-laden smoke inhalation or dehydration! And, I don't want to suffer.

My facetiousness aside, what kind of world am I leaving for Little L here?! It's not the wonder-filled 1950's anymore, and we aren't looking at the future through technicolor/Kodachrome lenses. Instead, technology is this crazy ever-changing industry of gadgets with 3-year-old shelf lives that leave a digital wasteland of bits and bytes and toxic metal scraps behind. Our ecosystems are irreversibly changing, and biodiversity is diminishing by the hours, while scary-ass GMO mosquitoes with faulty kill-switch genes are being introduced into our bug populations. Our food is no longer truly natural, because even the most organic produce is exposed to soil contaminants and water pollutants. The climate shifts are creating weird weather patterns for places as far north as the arctic, and I can't even see the sky today through the gray haze of smoke clouds. I'm totally Debbie Downing today, I realize, but I honestly don't see my daughter's future world as particularly hopeful and promising. 

I keep wondering if one day we will all wake up and start doing something, or if anything can really be done at this point that is proactive rather than reactive. And I worry about the little girl who trusts me to keep her safe, when safety means she can't even go outside to play today and her young lungs will continue to inhale smoky air for at least another few days despite my best efforts. 

What a scary, dark time indeed.