Climate stories

I happen to have been born with an active imagination. A gift? I’ve regretted it many times over the past thirty years. Unlike the majority in my own country, I cottoned on to the climate drama in the early ’90’s after experiencing 5 or so years of drought where I was living. It was hot, it was dry, the trees were dying, it felt very threatening and very sad. Tt came to me then: THIS COULD BE THE FUTURE. . I watched how Nature’s always-taken-for-granted beauty and magnificent design could be trashed by simple absence of water delivered from the sky. What if it never came back to my garden, my land, because fossil fuel pollution was changing major climate patterns that determined rainfall? I couldn’t share this with anyone and it preyed on my mind. I had nightmares about the future. I worried about what my grandchildren were thinking. Then I got angry with everyone who was denying the danger. Climate action started to happen, I joined The Climate Emergency and tried to talk about it but wasn’t supported by many. I became a full-on activist. I worked in an environmental education centre, full- time. I wrote thousands of letters – actual paper in envelopes – as well as emails, I signed thousands of petitions, took part in dozens of actions. At 60, 65 years of age, I found it gruelling, exhausting. And still the pitiful, blind, dishonest and perverse response by the people vested with protection and leadership “No, it’s not happening”. The years went by; I watched the heartbreaking sight of Pacific Islanders up to their knees in water in their food gardens, about to lose their homelands. Heatwaves became more extreme in my region and I thought about what it would be like for me if thing got steadily worse as I was getting steadily older. Living in an air-conditioned dome in a wasteland? Madmen were talking about colonising Mars. This threat of destruction for what? To preserve a system that had become worse and worse at serving the overall well-being of the world’s people and was in fact steadily obliterating the rightful patrimony of every child of every generation: the wonderful, beautiful, planet we live on. Finally, I’ve realised that my old age will be tainted by the fear, resentment and loss of quality of life people everywhere are now living with. God help the children. God bless the Uncles.