Local Warming

What a strange winter! While the east and mid west of the US have shivered in the icy blasts, the southwest US and northern Mexico have basked in balmy temperatures. Although I have not been able to find historical temperature records for Banamichi, in Tucson, it has been the second warmest winter on record...the warmest being back in 1957... that is 57 years ago. I was just 14 years old back then, and now I am nearly 71! That's almost a whole lifetime.

Banámichi has not had a freeze all winter...at least not in the microclimate of our back yard. Daytime temperatures have hovered in the 70's and 80's, approaching 90 some days. While this has made for great quality time outdoors, this is not normal, and nature has been pretty confused!

The natural world  has been about a month ahead of schedule....the brittle bush and globe mallow were blooming by the side of the highway in mid-February, and the citrus trees were beginning to bloom in our garden before we had even picked much of this year's fruit.

Grapefruit tree with last year's fruit and this year's blossoms

The bougainvilleas never froze back this year, going from being slightly subdued in the darkest days to erupting into their full springtime splendor. The doves have already been huffing and puffing around on the ground in their mating dance. In the vegetable garden the lettuce, broccoli and herbs have bolted.

Bougainvillea in full bloom in February

This is just wrong ... all wrong! In mid February last year we had 2 days of 24 degree weather which dealt a death blow to our papaya and lemon trees. Theoretically, that could still happen this year. All those blooming things could be doomed! George Brookbank (the guru of Sonoran desert gardening) said in his book Desert Gardening  that there are various natural signs that the danger of frost is past, for example, when the mesquite trees begin to bloom. He also mentions watching insect life and birds for signs. Well, the mesquites are still without flowers, although they never lost all their leaves this year.  But the birds are singing up a storm and the leaf cutter ants are marching one by one, so we have mixed messages. According to Accuweather there is no frost in the forecast, and realistically in Banámichi the danger is past. It is unlikely we will have much of a peach crop this year, since the trees need at least a shot of cold weather to produce well.

This all brings me back to my previous contemplations on climate change. Yes, there are normal variations in the earth's climate that occur naturally, however, most scientists now accept that climate change is real. Even the climate doubters in the general population are being convinced as they find themselves affected by  enormous climatological instabilities such as huge storms or this year's east coast winter.

Spring and summer flowers in February

Apparently the craziness that has been this winter has been largely due to a few degrees of warming in the arctic. This  has pushed the jet stream further south, where it has dipped into the midwest and swooshed up across the mid- Atlantic states producing such cold that in places the ground has literally exploded. Meanwhile, a high pressure area has stalled over the southwest and northern Mexico creating late spring weather in February.

My sense is that unless some widespread action is taken, we can expect more and more instabilities like this winter, more disasters and more wonky weather. And given our dysfunctional US government any action is very unlikely. How discouraging! I could really let this get me down!

But being a practical person, I always come back to what I as an individual can do. It is such a complex issue that anything I can contribute seems like a mere speck in the immensity of the universe. Still, in the ecology of our world, everything is interrelated and even my small efforts do affect the whole. And,  my tiny contributions allow me to feel better, more in control. What I can  offer is to live as consciously and simply as possible so as to use as few resources as I reasonably can. I say reasonably, because I suppose I could give up going to Banámichi to save gasoline and energy, but for me that is just not on the table. Spending time there is my  way of returning to sanity, to a simpler way of being. Bringing sanity, peace of mind and simplicity into the world is as valuable as conserving resources.

So I reuse and recycle plastic bags and just about everything else that it is possible to recycle. I re-purpose old items. I combine trips so as to not waste fuel or energy. We run our house temperature colder in the winter and warmer in the summer than I would prefer, and these days, I think carefully before contributing to the frenzy of consumption that is the United States norm. I also grow some of my own food and avoid supporting the mega food industry by preparing meals at home.

Meanwhile, the Christmas poinsettia is still in full bloom!

I study simplicity during my time in Banámichi. All I have to do is look around me. There is nothing much to buy, not many ways to spend money. There is nowhere much to go and not a lot to do except to potter around in the garden and cook good food. My whole being relaxes when I am there.

The local people set an example of reusing things in the most resourceful ways - a broken hot water heater will have a fire built under it to warm the water. A rock will prop up furniture with a broken leg. A cement block holds a loose roof in place. An old tire becomes a planter. People find joy in family and each other. Having  stuff is not necessary for happiness. Being there brings me to the joy and contentment that arises from within myself. You should come on down and see for yourself!

Oh, I just remembered... there is one other thing I can do for our planet: raise questions and encourage you all to consider what you can offer to help our planet to avoid the climate catastrophe that is coming. Even if it seems hopeless and inconsequential, even if it seems too little, too late, what will you do?

The Big Chill

Last year was a warm winter in Banámichi. Some of the nights were chilly, but it never froze. The plants in my garden grew all winter and looked beautiful. A couple of bitter days in January 2011 changed all of that.

Now, all the lovely subtropical plants along the south wall are brown and look dead. Even the huge Sapote tree in the yard is covered with crispy leaves. Chuchico's even more enormous tree in his yard (the one that drops stuff on my veggie patch) is covered with crispy leaves. My carefully nurtured little mango, avocado and papaya trees all look finished. It's all very sad and forlorn. It is hard not to be angry at mother nature for ruining my garden.

Trumpet plant before the freeze

Trumpet plant after the freeze

It took two very cold days and a couple of nights at about 18 degrees Farenheit to accomplish this. The repercussions will probably last for several years. Our friend Tom talked to some of the "ancianos" in the town - the  folks over 80. Each one of them said that this kind of cold has never happened before now in their lifetime.

I remind myself that I am not alone in having my garden ruined. Others are also heartbroken at what has happened to their plants. Many people rely on the avocado, mango and citrus trees in their yards for food. All that is gone. Those fruits will have to come from elsewhere this year at a much greater price. Many people here live on the edge, and this will just add to the effects of the world economic downturn and the almost complete lack of tourism due to the self-serving US media reports of violence in Mexico. Money for high priced produce is scarce.

 dead mango tree

dead papaya tree

I personally was caught in a record setting snowstorm in Minneapolis, and later again sat on a runway for several hours at JFK in New York while our plane was de-iced, and now here is all this cold. What is happening? How could we have such a dreadful winter in a supposed time of global warming? Good question, I thought and did some research.

Apparently, the first thing to understand is that weather is not the same as climate. No heat wave or cold spell by itself is indicative of whether or not our climate is changing. But climate change does cause instabilities in weather patterns such as heat waves- like last summer, and severe cold and snow - like this winter.

The slowly rising temperature of the planet results in warmer water in the tropical Pacific (el niño), which affects  weather patterns all over, particularly in the mid Atlantic states. This also can mess up the jet stream and force cold air down from Northern Canada. Voila...a cold snowy winter in a time of global warming.

Back in northern Sonora, all the agave plants have frozen. This means that for several years there will be no bacanora, the regional type of tequila that many locals make.The mescaleros who cut the agave will be out of work. Those who make the bacanora and sell it will have less income, and the impoverished will now need to buy tequila instead of drinking their own home brew. The vegetable farmers were frozen out all the way down to the state of Sinaloa. One little weather system and so much economic impact!

But how can we be sure this cold is really caused by greenhouse gas emissions and not just some other more normal fluctuation? A recent article in the online New York Times cites a study in which computer programs simulated the climate and then analyzed whether recent severe weather could be explained by normal variations in climate. It was found that it could not, and that severe weather as we have experienced this winter could only be explained by taking into account greenhouse gases created by human activity.

It's interesting what froze and what did not. The lemon and Mexican lime trees look bad, and the fruit has turned brown and rotten. Meanwhile, the oranges and grapefruit are just fine. All the herbs except the basil are good, and the lettuce is ready to be picked. The coleus jungle is gone. I think about the lovely red chiltepins and their plants out in the riparian areas where we picked them. Are they still alive?

frozen Mexican Lime tree

It's hard to contemplate that climate change is partially my fault. I drive cars that rely on fossil fuels. I buy foods that have to be transported great distances, using even more fossil fuels. I travel in planes. I like my heating and air conditioning as much as the next person. My habits contribute to climate change, and therefore indirectly contribute to the wild weather fluctuations that cause so much suffering. What can I change about my life to lessen this impact? Should I not drive or not travel? Should I purchase carbon offsets? Should I eat only local foods in season? Should I suffer the cold in the winter and the heat in the summer?

So far I am embarrassed to say I have not been willing to do these things. Making the effort seems like such a drop in the bucket and to make these sacrifices would significantly reduce my quality of life. Not enough other people are making these sacrifices for us all to make a worthwhile shift in the greenhouse gas picture.What I have been willing to do is to consolidate trips so as not to waste gas, fly infrequently, use energy saving light bulbs, and to turn down the heat and AC. I am not sure these help any more in the long run than taking more extreme actions, but at least they soothe my guilt.

Still, when I realize the impact of the cold, the guilt nags at me and makes me wonder if I could do more. I think we need a change in collective consciousness so that enough people take these actions that we create a 100th monkey effect. How do we create that change? Many people do not even believe that climate change is real. I despair for the future of this planet.

Meanwhile, all the experts say to leave the plants alone for another month so it becomes more obvious what will come back. It is hard to restrain my pruning shears. I want to get rid of the brown crispy stuff and forget what happened. I want my garden to return to the way it was before. But that's the thing about change -- things may not ever go back to the way they were before. And that is painful whether it happens in the plant world or the human world.