O brave new world

Though officially it’s summer – the autumnal equinox is still to come – I saw frost this morning, dusted over lawns and rooftops.

“At least you won’t have to mow much longer,” Karin said.

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How cold and snowy will be the winter of 2020–2021? The Farmer’s Almanac and Old Farmer’s Almanac disagree.

It’s just as well: neither of them is considered very reliable.

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Indiana is in a sweet spot, climate-wise, according to ProPublica. The most habitable weather will migrate here by midcentury.

On the other hand, southern Missouri will have the climate that Louisiana has today, and coastal Louisiana will slip under water.

Forecasts for Ecuador are dire, too. If they are correct, it’ll be an unfamiliar world.

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I often wonder what sort of world Samuel will make his life in. Will its furniture – its countries, its climactic zones – remain in place?

Or will that furniture be drastically rearranged?

And how will Samuel earn his keep?

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Things have changed before. I think of the New World colonizers – and those they colonized. Their lives were swiftly altered.

The colonizers’ resilience and adaptability are celebrated. Their political legacy is worshiped.

But the truth is, many of them were ruthless, and their casualties were high. (And that’s to say nothing of those they colonized.)

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I’m not so far from being a casualty myself. I never quite adapted to my own migration, in 2000. And when the economy tanked, in 2008, well, that was pretty much the end; I realized, studying at a rich school, that material thriving was beyond me.

And now the economy has tanked again.

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What would it be humane to do with Samuel? To encourage him to thrive? Or to prepare him for the worst?