Word Count 1171

Work on my current novel-length project is taking up all my time at present. Hence, it’s Earth Day-2025 and even though I want to publish something new, instead find myself being forced to post a previous essay to the website.

This is a piece that I wrote for my friend, Nate Smith, who moved to NYC in Fall of 2021. He’s the director for a fringe-Climate Festival. Nate asked me to contribute an essay to the festival that takes a humorous take concerning our current global warming problem. Here’s the result for all our readers out there…

Of Course The

Change is Happening

David G. Swanson

     It’s a total misnomer to think that because the valley where Silverton, Colorado sits happens to be a 6½ hour drive from Denver to the other end of the state, and requires one to hold their bladder for extended periods of time, therefore, the place isn’t affected by the ravages of global climate change.

     Like an insidious bout of cancer that just keeps coming back again and again, Global Warming has impacted major parts of this planet. Much to the disbelief of some, those of us in the four-corners region of Colorado are not immune to its negatively pervasive impacts either. We need to quit sticking our heads in the sand (ala the ostrich thing) and closing ourselves off from the rest of the world. Unless you happen to be a rural hermit-type and enjoy that particular lifestyle option.

     Rather than ignore the problem like people who slowly but surely find themselves putting on the extra pounds because they spend inordinate amounts of time sitting on the couch consuming massive amounts of ice cream, as they’re watching Netflix, let’s examine those negative impacts. Silverton, Colorado sits at an altitude of 9,318’. The caldera of a once active volcano, the environment in and around this mountain village is basically a high-altitude desert. Extremely dry, and because winters often last for up to five months, very cold as well. Unfortunately for skier fanatics such as myself, those winters are getting shorter and shorter. First snow storms, which used to happen in late September, are now taking place in mid- to late October.  Rather than a quiet, almost serene winter wonderland lead-up to the storm, we’re getting these loud, wind-tunnel like blasts. Instead of light fluffy flakes falling out of the sky, we now have this combination rain/snow mixture that makes a person wonder why they haven’t moved to a remote tropical island in the South Pacific yet? Oh yeah, that same island is now disappearing before our very eyes.

      We’re now getting these all-too-brief, massive Armageddon-like, Kill-storms happening with every low-pressure system moving through. Accompanied by raging, hurricane-force winds, temperature drops of about 20 degrees in a 15-minute span, and accompanying by snowfall intensities comparable to that of a bucket of confetti being dropped into a wind tunnel whose setting is stuck on #11. Are we having fun yet? Well, during the brunt of the storm, not so much.

     Springtime isn’t like it used to be either. I suppose one can get used to snow storms that dump 10” of the white stuff one day, followed by all of it melting the very next day because the temperature has jumped 40 degrees, resulting in huge pools of slush and mud. For one, springtime now means the carpet inside your house requires daily cleaning. On the bright side, your vacuuming skills have undergone a substantial improvement.

     In summer, the monsoon rains that used to come from gentle, low-pressure systems that would blow into the Four-Corners region off the Gulf of Mexico, and happened like clockwork during the months of July and August, have disappeared. No more clouds building into this dark grey sky foretelling an imminent rainstorm and contributing to all those beautiful Alpine Meadows of wildflowers. Instead, the disappearance of the monsoon rains definitely means a much drier environment. This sucks, and it’s another example of climatic patterns having shifted-which has resulted in things just not being the same as they used to be around these parts. Why is this, other than the fact that maybe your karma seems like it’s taken a flying leap off the nearest 50 story skyscraper?

     Forest fires have increased in intensity. Starting on bone-dry ground cover which makes ignition so much easier. They’re much hotter, and now spread at a much faster rate too. This leads one to think that the fires have suddenly been exported from down below by some sort of sadistic entity. I’m theorizing that the guy in charge of just such a place is partially responsible for this happening?

     What about autumn with all those cobalt blue skies and mother-nature putting on a display of colors that makes your eyes hurt? These days our Autumn drought-like conditions that used to happen from mid-August right up until early October now mean I should get used to bare trees and cold-dry weather patterns happening every year for longer and longer periods of time? I guess so, but don’t ask me to ever look forward to it.

     True, climatic patterns have shifted, which leads one to wonder if it’s possible for a person to spend all their waking hours inside the house? Apparently so, but you’ve got to have a special type of house. One that’s totally immune to any sort of climate change. Unfortunately, sooner or later you’re bound to get bored living in just such a place. For one, your decorating options are somewhat limited. Plus, that food supply inside your hermetically-sealed, 10-foot-thick concrete, nuclear-safe, Armageddon bunker will start running low. Spam preparation only goes so far as an evening entrée. Unless you happen to have grown up in Hawaii.

     Rather than try to cover up this Global Warming Hell-Hole, or undertake a lame attempt to accent it, let’s try and come up with some viable, positive solutions instead. Trying to be an eternal optimist, I can vouch for the fact that I sleep better at night because of this lifestyle choice.

      Here in the San Juan Mountains, we’ve got some solutions to address the problem that are unavailable in other locales. How about installing solar panels on your roof? The western part of America gets lots of sunshine, and this is definitely a viable option. Unless of course you’re one of those types who’s built a 20,000 square-foot house for yourself and your wife, and put cedar shingles on top of the abode because it’s esthetically pleasing. Plus, it fits in nicely with our mountain environment.

     What about driving an electric vehicle? Also, a viable option unless you happen to live off a dirt road and all those intense kill-storms can severely impact your low-ground-clearance, balled-tires, vehicular access. Who knew mud puddles could be so dangerous.

     The one thing we shouldn’t do is stick our head in the sand (ala the ostrich solution), and ignore the problem. This won’t work, primarily because of the fact that your vision is negatively impacted by doing this.