i don’t think people get what these fires mean for California.
the fight against climate change is not “for the future” or “coming up”
no. it is now. for california, for me, for the 37 fucking million of us who live here, it is now. it is now. it is fucking now. there is smoke blanketing my entire city. the other day there was ASH FALLING FROM THE SKY. there are people who are living with red, terrifying smoke, right outside their front doors. i can’t open a window because it all smells like a fucking fire. the sky is entirely grey, because it’s all fucking smoke. my entire fucking STATE is affected by this shit. my STATE.
by the way, california? our population is 71% of England’s. an entire country.
and yes, there are issues other than climate change that have caused this shit, of course. but I’ve grown up through two droughts. I’ve watched the fountains in my town get shut down, I’ve watched them grow dusty and old. I’ve fixed my sprinklers to account for the new water restrictions. I’ve grown up knowing each winter was colder, each summer hotter. I’ve grown up seeing this shit.
every year, we come to fire season, and i hope and watch and desperately wish that it’ll be okay. that thousands of people won’t lose their homes this year. that i won’t have to walk home with a red sun blazing over me and smoke so thick i can’t stop coughing. that I’ll be able to step outside and not smell it. that people won’t lose their towns, their belongings, their livelihoods. every damn year.
my entire state is kindling. my friends outside of cali reach out to me about the fires, telling me they hope I’ll be safe. but i can’t go outside without inhaling lungfuls of smoke. i can’t do anything but watch as hundreds of thousands of acres burn.
2.5 million acres have burned this year. million. 2.5 fucking million acres. 20x what burned last year.
my state is on fire. my city is covered in smoke. a one year old boy DIED because of these fires, and who knows how many will join him by the time this is over.
so yes, please, donate. but i am tired as shit of people pretending that wildfires in california should be normal, that this is okay, that this is just “something that happens” no. no. vote for politicians who support renewable energy. vote for politicians who care about climate change. because, in the grand scheme of things, what we need is restrictions and laws and regulations. one person installing solar panels isn’t going to do shit.
those bottom photos are san francisco. my state is burning.
you can donate to help here. but this isn’t something that’ll go away. it’s going to get worse and worse, unless we fucking do something.
tags from @astrum-cipher. this is a huge fucking devastating problem.
I woke up this morning and could see the smoke before I even opened my blinds, just form the yellow quality of the light peeking in under the door. I’m from Oregon. I grew up with a color pallet of grey and green and blue, of rainy winters and forests that are supposed to stay lush through the summer. With this smoke, it’s dark like it is under the blanket of clouds in the winter, but this brings no rain, just ash falling from the sky. I don’t want to open the blinds because the world outside is orange, not green. I don’t want to watch the world I love burn. This is Not Normal.
just wait until the smoke clears. 150,000 acres of the McKenzie corridor is gone, all that green and blue is black now. i’ve driven that road hundreds of times, and i’m going to absolutely fucking weep the next time I go out there.
When I was seven, I heard a strange sound at night, and ran to my mom crying “What’s that noise?”
Rain.
It was rain. And I had never heard it before.
I lived, and live, in the San Francisco Bay Area. I was more familiar with the feeling of an earthquake than the sound of rain.
When I was in college, California was in another drought (funny, how the golf courses and corporate lawns stay emerald green when everything else is dry and dying). I heard out-of-state students comment, during a rare rain shower, “I thought there was supposed to be a drought?” while the rest of us were watching the reservoir levels and hoping for more rain.
But there’s a double-edged sword there, too. If we get enough rain, grasses spring up everywhere and the state is lush and green… until summer, when it dries up and goes golden. And provides acres and acres of tinder and fuel for the inevitable wildfires that come each year.
Climate change is tangible. Each summer is setting new records for heat. Places that used to be comfortable without air conditioning just… aren’t. And with the smoke and the fires, we can’t open a window to get relief.
climate change is tangible.