New Year's Rain.

I’m listening to the rain pound my window in New York on New Year’s Eve. The forecast refuses to even hint at snow for the next week, which is often one of the coldest of the year. I see “1-2 inches” and get excited, imaging what it would have been like as snow. Probably 1-2 feet, or at least enough to warrant pulling my gaiters on. Instead, dust collects on my cold weather gear, which seems out of place in this “new normal;” I’ve seen just a single significant snowfall this season. The ball is dropping in Times Square tonight, surrounded by thousands of people braving wind gusts over 40 miles per hour. Wind in New York City is nothing new. What caught my attention was the dramatic change of attire. Gone are the down jackets and wool hats, replaced by raincoats and rubber boots. The ball is dropping. I read several news stories today about the Paris Agreement and I imagined what could have been had we not dropped the ball, long before Paris.

But tonight we’re supposed to forget our worries and ring in the next year with all the optimism of the last. I for one, am still optimistic, thanks to the efforts of many cities, counties, and states who refuse to turn a blind eye to global climate change. They were spurred to action by you, by me, by individuals. We have much work ahead of us, but human ingenuity and perseverance are never to be underestimated.

Happy New Year.