What a wonderful and breathtaking circumstance: each year, the seasons play out for us the arc of our life. This beautiful and mysterious gift should give us pause. One might fancy that we are part of something that is beyond our ken, and beyond words. In the meantime, autumn and winter and spring and summer come and go, each with its own "and yet -- and yet --," its own "nevertheless." How lucky we are.
My skepticism about climate change has nothing to do with critiques of science or challenging experts. After thrity-five years of listening to doomsday scenarios, I just can't understand how, if it were true, the seasons keep coming and going as they always have, each with its own.
ReplyDeleteI have no skepticism about climate change, but I am skeptical of predictions as to the direction of that change, which, as you say, have amounted to 35 years of doomsday scenarios.
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