I’ve been trying to stay positive throughout the whole hideous pandemic but this week it’s gotten the best of me.
We’re fortunate enough to be sheltering in place near the ocean where we’ve been able to stay sane with daily beach walks and lovely, clear air. Unless Wednesday.
I woke up to what looked like a vivid sunset, along with the dense, acrid smell of smoke. US readers will know that we are facing massive wildfires on the west coast, and even our little corner of Oregon is not immune, as there have been outbreaks to the north and east of us. While we’re intensely lucky not to have to evaculate thus far (fingers crossed), the air remains at a dangerously unhealthy level so all outdoor activities are curtailed for now.
Suddenly, sheltering in place is even more claustrophobic, while my anxiety is skyrocketing and even minor annoyances feel overwhelming. Praying for rain.
OK, enough whining; how about some activism? In news from London, thirty bare-breasted women locked themselves to the railings outside Britain’s Houses of Parliament to demand action on climate change. Members of Extinction Rebellion, they’d written the dire consequences of global warming on their bodies to call attention to our world’s predicament.
I’d go topless too if I were a few decades younger.
