Last night, I let my dog out in our yard for a few moments and felt something unusual. It was extraordinarily still and quiet. When I took a deep breath in, there was a different flavor to the air. It smelled and tasted somehow cleaner. At first, I thought I was imagining it. After all, for the past several days, I have been reading articles about how pollution in major cities has declined and people in those cities are taking notice. However, I had not thought of my town as polluted, so why would it make a difference here? Yet as I stood looking up at the clear starlit sky and listening to the crickets and other nighttime sounds, I had the unmistakable feeling that I was somewhere in the mountains of northern New Hampshire or Vermont, far away from the usual city hubbub. It struck me that I didn’t realize how widespread pollution was—even reaching my suburban hometown—until it improved.
Practicing social distancing has been difficult for sure, and we have all had to give up a lot in the past few weeks. But perhaps we are gaining something as well. While everyone is clamoring for the country to “re-open” and life to go back to normal, is that truly what we want? Is it possible to strike a balance going forward, a way to give the earth an occasional holiday? Because I imagine that this feels like a huge vacation to our planet.
Climate change has long been referred to as the biggest existential crisis mankind has ever faced. It is bigger, even, than the threat of Coronavirus. This pandemic is horrible and certainly a major crisis, but will likely be relatively short-lived if we take appropriate steps to mitigate it. Climate change, however, has been slower to assault us but will be with us for the long haul if we don’t take action now. This global shutdown has shown us that our collective actions make a difference to the earth, albeit at great cost. It begs the question: How much are we willing to invest in the future of our planet?
