It is hot, dry and windy. We are enveloped in smoke, yet again. My asthma is in full swing and I can't stop coughing.
I read a poem once by Elizabeth Bishop, called "One Art". (It is copyright so I can't print it here.)
It describes how we deal with loss. How little by little we accept it. We accept the burning of the Amazon, it is so removed.
We accept the burning of Siberia, that is at the other end of the earth in the Arctic.
The coral reefs are under threat.
The list grows longer and longer, but we accept the loss of all these things, maybe because they seem to happen in isolation and we have time to accept the loss.
It is time to stop the acceptance and act. Time is running out.