We've just come off the hottest July in modern times and I sit here pondering on this mid-August morning that feels more like late September. The seasons have gone screwy. The climate has changed. As "isolated" incidents pile up into hard evidence it doesn't take Einstein to see the pattern and suss out the trajectory.
Growing up on the farm we watched the weather. Our livelihood, after all, depended on rain and warm and dry at the right times. We watched the sky. And we watched the animals.
My grandmother said it meant rain was coming when the dog ate grass. The Farmer's Almanac debunks that one. While that may be a myth I believe animals do react to conditions that we don't perceive. How Stuff Works explores possible scientific explanations.
Many theories have been brought forth about bee colony collapse. While perhaps not climate-related it appears human-induced by some means.
Over the past few years I've observed (from town, now) anomalies among other insect cycles. Two of abundance and the most recent one of absence.
For background, I'm going on 59. Geologically that's an instant but at the rate the climate has changed my observations cover a significant span. You go along in life and don't take note of the routine. Then comes the event that's counter to the norm and you notice. It was a whole lot of years when nothing terribly unusual caught my attention and, even then, I took it as an anomaly.
A few years ago we experienced an explosion in the butterfly population. Dakota Skippers and Fritillaries in particular. There were so many that their little corpses on the highway created a slight slick. "Hmm. Isn't that something." And on our way we went not thinking further of cause or effect.
Last year it was dragonflies. Everywhere. In great numbers. I observed more closely because they've always been my favorites. It's always been an "Ooooh" moment to see one. Out in the country it's not unusual to see dragonflies or damselflies but in town they're more of a rarity. The USGS has a nice site listing which species have been sited in which counties. Common species in my area include Emerald spreadwings, Western red damsels, various bluets, Eastern forktails, common green darners, twelve-spotted skimmers, variegated meadowhawks, and black saddlebags. Yes, I do love watching them. So do my grandchildren.
Last summer we had thousands of dragonflies in our yard. And town. And area. They would swarm around us as we walked. My grandchildren stood with their little hands outstretched and dragonflies would land on them. I had never before seen such abundance. Not in the country grain fields. Not along stream banks. Never. Anywhere. We wondered if it would be that way again this summer but it wasn't.
Each year I plant parsley in my garden. I use it for cooking and garnish but mostly I plant it for the swallowtail caterpillars. Around Julyish I start seeing them munching away and growing fatter. A couple of years I planted parsley in pots and tented them with cheesecloth to give to the elementary school. I gave a pot of parsley to each of my grandchildren to take home so they could watch the caterpillars. But, alas, this year there are no caterpillars. It's a bit sad to see my plants so lush and full with nary a sprig chewed.
The end of my life is closer than the beginning. I expect to see the beginning of the mass extinctions brought on by a changing climate. My lovely grandchildren, however, will see far worse. They'll live in a world without the flora and fauna that we so casually toss away. Do you ever feel like Edward G. Robinson in Soylent Green?
4:57 PM PT: Thank you for the responses, the rescue, and the recs.