We were surprised yesterday by more snow more quickly than we’d been lead to expect. Both Ann and I were in Floyd on separate missions and in two cars, and both of us curtailed our plans and hurried (well, crept) home on road that got tricky quickly.
Reaching home at last, as I got out of the car, soft flakes piled up on the windshield before I could gather my gear and open the door. In all that white calm, my eye was drawn to color and movement over along the creek. I cocked my head and squinted to make out what I was seeing.
There, at the house-side of the plank that crosses the creek, stood four very perplexed, anxious and heavily snow-covered chickens, pacing back and forth and clucking that the sky was falling.
They’d obviously been on this side of the creek foraging on the south-facing slope above the garden when the snow got heavy. With their hay-strewn path obscured (but not at all impassable) by the inche of new snow, they did not know how to get home. They might have well have been stranded on the moon.
I couldn’t help but draw parallels.
The recent debacle of science-smashing (that some have used to “deny” science in general and science that might point towards uncomfortable and costly changes–e.g., climate chaos–in particular) is a thin blanket of deliberate obfuscation of the path that separates where we are from where we need to go.
I’m wondering if we have enough sense to tread boldly over this thin, insubstantial and dangerous impediment in our way and get out of the storm while we can. Or will frozen chickens be found in the snow twenty feet from safety?
What if the sky really is falling?
A helpful, current 9 minute video–highly recommended. What We Know AboutÂ Climate Change