It’s full-on springtime now. My blackberries are sending out new canes, and the passion vines have broken ground. The nestlings in the bluebird box are old enough for their cries to be heard across the yard. The front-stoop skinks are awake, the first lightning bugs are blinking in the trees, and the first ruby-throated hummingbird has migrated safely back to Tennessee from his wintering grounds in South America. As they do every year, these signs of spring work to keep my anguish for the world at bay.
Not all signs of spring are a relief to see. For weeks now, robins have been crisscrossing the roads, flying right at tire level. I don’t know why they do this. Are they too crazed by hormones to remember that their one advantage over automobiles is flight? Are they too hungry after a lean winter to leave the ground and its spring-waking insects? Whatever the reason, I hold my breath a little every morning, hoping the best for low-flying robins.
Maybe it seems pointless, this worry about robins when the Trump administration is waging open war on the whole living world: taking steps to remove crucial protections of the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act and habitat protections from endangered species, to make it easier to drill and mine on public lands and fish in protected zones, to halt the expansion of renewable energy, to fire thousands of U.S. Forest Service and National Park Service employees, as well as the experts tracking the effects of climate change on Americans.
And all this is happening just as the data we do have increasingly point to a natural world in dire trouble. Last fall the World Wildlife Fund released the results of a study that showed shocking declines in wildlife populations across the globe — 95 percent in Latin America and the Caribbean, 76 percent in Africa, 60 percent in Asia and the Pacific. Just on Thursday the journal Science published a study showing that North American bird populations are in severe decline, with 75 percent of species affected. Most startlingly, birds are losing ground in places where they have traditionally thrived.
So, especially in spring, when the robins are flying right at tire level again — and the turtles are making their slow methodical way to the other side of the road to lay their eggs again; and the road-crossing squirrels keep panicking again, changing their minds about the safest direction to go when a car is bearing down on them; and the baby opossums have climbed out of their mama’s pouch to cling to their backs, from which they can too easily fall if she tries to hurry — I slow down.
A changing climate, a changing world
Climate change around the world: In “Postcards From a World on Fire,” 193 stories from individual countries show how climate change is reshaping reality everywhere, from dying coral reefs in Fiji to disappearing oases in Morocco and far, far beyond.
The role of our leaders: Writing at the end of 2020, Al Gore, the 45th vice president of the United States, found reasons for optimism in the Biden presidency, a feeling perhaps borne out by the passing of major climate legislation. That doesn’t mean there haven’t been criticisms. For example, Charles Harvey and Kurt House argue that subsidies for climate capture technology will ultimately be a waste.
The worst climate risks, mapped: In this feature, select a country, and we’ll break down the climate hazards it faces. In the case of America, our maps, developed with experts, show where extreme heat is causing the most deaths.
What people can do: Justin Gillis and Hal Harvey describe the types of local activism that might be needed, while Saul Griffith points to how Australia shows the way on rooftop solar. Meanwhile, small changes at the office might be one good way to cut significant emissions, writes Carlos Gamarra.
I wish everyone would slow down. Surely the least we can do is to give our wild neighbors time to cross the roads we have built through the middle of their homes.
