The first sounds of winter’s retreat come from snow melting off the metal sheets covering my woodpile.

Plink . . . plink . . . plink. 

Slow, almost imperceptible. 

Then faster and louder as the morning sun grows more ravenous. Individual drips joining others in a widening pool at the woodpile’s base.

My woodpile looks sadly diminished today, its early autumn bulk considerably reduced. It’s like looking at a good friend wasting away.

Wasting is a wrong word. My woodpile’s bulk has been reduced as it gave up a large part of itself to keep me warm this winter. Given, not wasted. 

My woodpile is a good friend who gives me much. It was once a living tree offering beauty, shade and oxygen while providing protection for small animals, insects and birds.  When it died, as all living things must, it fell to the forest floor for me to find.

My woodpile brings me more than winter heat. It gives me the joy of being in the woods, and the physical exercise of cutting, splitting and stacking it. 

It also gives me mental workouts. I come here occasionally to lean against it and think about life and how complicated it can be.

In the woodpile I see a different world. A world of trees. Also a complicated place, but a place managed far more successfully than ours.

Some Indigenous people believe that trees and other plants are living beings somewhat similar to human beings. Scientific studies have been supporting this, finding that trees, through their roots and leaves, sense and comprehend their environment and communicate information with fellow trees and other plants.

Trees avoid many of the problems that complicate our human world. One reason they do is that trees are patient beings, never rushing to make change.

Trees don’t get angry or yell at each other. They don’t waste time and energy whining about their situations or controls on their lives. They work together to help each other.

Most importantly, they respect and appreciate diversity. 

Their skins are different colours, different textures. Their leaves are different shapes and different sizes. But they live side by side, not discriminating. There is no racism nor social inequality in the world of trees.

The mightiest oak is no more important than the weakest willow. 

Unlike us, they live sustainable lives. They take and use only what is needed, understanding that conserving energy and resources makes life better for all.

We humans are beginning to understand that we are living an unsustainable way of life. Some research indicates that 87 per cent of all our economic activity is unsustainable – in other words not supported by renewable resources.

Understanding that problem is one thing. Solving it is another.

We deal with the symptoms of our unsustainable way of life – plastics congesting the oceans, carbon emissions changing climate, landfills choking with waste. We haven’t yet seriously addressed the root cause of the symptoms, which is consuming much more than we really need.

Nature has dealt with the root cause of unsustainability since the beginning of time. If it hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here. It understands the difference between simply wanting and truly needing. 

We humans see Nature as something nice, but separate from ourselves. We don’t see ourselves as part of it and certainly don’t see that there is much that it can teach us.

When I lean against my woodpile contemplating the world, I often wonder whether the answers to our problems are right here in Nature. Can Nature show us how to live without the anger, hatred and wars we experience now? How to live without discrimination and social inequality? How to fight the diseases that continue to infect us?

It will take people a lot smarter than me to find the answers to those questions.

The positive news is that those people – members of the scientific community – are out there working steadily to unlock the secrets of Nature. As they share what they learn from Nature, it is possible that we all will become as smart as the trees that surround us and the world will be a better place. 

                                                #

Is this winter an example of future winters?

The New Year opened with so many questions:

Will the global economic turmoil become a recession? Will western Canadian oil be given a stable delivery system to world markets where it can be sold for true market value? Will the trend to populace politics create more chaos? Will Pinocchio Trump move from the White House to a U.S. penitentiary?

The list is lengthy, but the most important question in my mind is what will happen with the weather. Opinions range from ‘global warming is a China-inspired hoax’ to ‘the world will dry up and blow away within the next 30 years.’

The best way to find an answer to the weather question is to look for facts. I am aware that looking for facts is considered old-fashioned these days, but I still find it helpful.

First, the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) recently reported that the last four years of global temperatures have been the hottest on record. Also the 20 warmest years on record all occurred in the last 22 years.

October just passed was the 406th consecutive month in which global temperatures were above normal. There is no official final data for November yet, but it appears that it too will be above average, making it the 407^th consecutive month.

That means that anyone under 33 years old never has experienced a cooler-than-average month of global temperatures.

So what’s ahead for 2019 weather? Some scientists are concluding that this year will be the hottest ever recorded in human history.

The U.S. Climate Prediction Centre says there is an 80 per cent chance that a full-fledged El Niño already has begun and will last at least until the end of February. El Niño is a weather phenomenon in which parts of the Pacific Ocean warm and cause weather chaos, including a warmer-than-usual winter in much of Canada.

The documented trend to warmer world temperatures combining with an El Niño is the reason why some science professionals say this year will be the hottest ever.

More warmth is something the world does not need.

Rising temperatures have increased droughts, wildfires, and more violent weather in general. The World Meteorological Organization reports 70 tropical cyclones or hurricanes during 2018, far above the annual average of 53. 

These violent weather events cause agricultural losses, which are followed by malnutrition, then large migrations of people seeking more stable living conditions. These migrations create moral and political quandaries – do you build walls and pens to keep displaced people off your turf, or do you work to fix the things causing them to be displaced?

Newspapers and television news shows have been filled with reports of weather disasters in recent years. Most of them have been in far off places like Europe, California, and the U.S. south. But we are seeing weird weather changes – although not as violent or dramatic - right here at home.

The past fall and current winter in Haliburton have been among the most bizarre in memory. There was some precipitation – rain or snow – on 27 of 30 days in November and 24 of 31 in December.

December had rain on 10 days, almost double the average for that month.

There have been eye-popping temperature anomalies as well. Temperatures in November ranged from minus 26 Celsius to plus 14. December temperatures ranged from minus 24 to plus nine.

The wild temperature swings have continued into the New Year. Already this month we have seen a couple lows in the minus 20s and three or four days above freezing.

Weather ups and downs are not unusual. We’ve seen them before in the Haliburton-Muskoka region. However, looking at data from the last 10 years, there is evidence that our climate is changing.

The first effects of changing climate are being seen by skiers, snowboarders, snowmobilers and others who enjoy winter sports.

How climate change will affect other seasons remains to be seen. The wild winds, droughts and fires seen in other parts of the world would be a serious threat to our most important natural resource – our trees.

This week at a lake just south of Minden I saw a soft maple budding. Budding in mid-winter is unhealthy and a sign that all is not right in the natural world.