Last night, a little rain. Alaska has been burning. Each day, we have been waking to heat. None of us are accustomed to 20 hours of hot sunlight. Not the people, the plants, or the animals meant for 55degrees and a light drizzle. There have been wildfires, invasive bug epidemics, and daily news of those with power taking more away from the most vulnerable. Taking funds away from little babies, from our elders. They are removing protections for the worlds strongest remaining run of wild salmon. Building their roads across ancestral lands of indigenous peoples, across intact habitats. This is what climate crisis feels like. This is empire in collapse, squeezing us for all it can take. But the rain was enough to water in the cover crop we’d sown. We spent long days in that field, tilling, pulling weeds by by hand. Next year, it will grow crops to feed as many people as I can share with. I remind myself every day that the work we do builds a different vision than their dystopia, builds what heals. #justtransitionalaska
Summer Heat
