Unseasonal

It is another unseasonally warm February day, here in [Mohkínstsis](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calgary). The lawns outside have dry, blonde grass on display with no snow in sight. It's one of the warmest winters that I can recall. I'm writing this while looking outside my window to the leafless tree branches, tall and swaying across the street. The sky is so blue it became [the city's slogan](https://www.blueskycity.ca/).

There's a lot that's unseasonal, isn't there? I'm sure you've noticed it. Our climate is changing—and I'm not talking about the weather, here.

I think about the delta, often. Not how much things are changing, but the rate at which the change is occurring. Not just the velocity, but the jerk. The snap, crackle, pop of it all. Like a bullet train starting, or a car sputtering.

We've become so accustomed and desensitized to the idea of "disruption," popularized by silicon valley unicorn startups, haven't we? Let me re-contextualize the idea for you.

There are far more correct ideas associated with the revolutionary change: In nature, the wildland fires releasing nutrients stored in the litter on the forest floor, or the antifragile and self-healing salamanders, planarian flatworms, and the African spiny mouse. The [sea stars that can regrow entire arms](https://jollybreeze.com/2022/04/05/seastars-and-limb-regeneration/), and in some species, grow a whole new body from just a portion of a severed limb. The [immortal hydra](https://biology.ucdavis.edu/news/mapping-cells-immortal-regenerating-hydra), a freshwater creature that can regenerate its body and nervous system from tiny fragments in just a couple of days, continuously renewing all 100,000 of its cells every twenty days. The [muscles and bones that strengthen when exposed to stress](https://www.nature.com/articles/s41599-023-02413-3), the immune systems that grow more robust through controlled exposure to pathogens.

***

I do not think we have the language to articulate what is coming. The word "change" does not have the gravity to define how different things are going to be for us. There are colours we haven't seen, yet. How do we prepare?

We don't. And the funny thing is, we continue, anyways. I write my blog posts. I'm sure you go to your job or take care of others. I hope you have the time to crochet or solve puzzles or read, or any other hobby you enjoy. I hope you're nourished and hydrated, as best as you can be.

In my maladaptive daydreaming, looking at the blue sky instead of doing my work, I wonder how much longer do we have to continue as-is. Will there be a gradient of change or will there be a specific day—a particular tipping point?

If you don't mind me asking you a personal question, reader, what do you care about? What do you love? It's a common re