The first measurable bit of snow fell overnight and continues to tickle -- halfway to rain -- into these morning hours. It's only an inch or two, but it seems to be late in coming. Christmas was not quite the same without it. Even at my age, it continues weird me out to think of Australia dodging forest fires and sweltering when Santa is busy loading up.
I am glad there are others who are concerned about climate change and the effect human activity has on the air everyone breathes and the land everyone stands on. It's too big for me, somehow. I know it is worthy of knicker-twisting, but ... well, it's too big for me, even as I marvel at the smog in Beijing. I stand on some sideline and cheer everyone on: "Go get 'em, guys!" And "thanks for the effort." But it's not enough to get me off my own ass, whatever that might mean. It's too big, too important and, sometimes, too virtuous.
Maybe there is just a time when everything gets too big -- even an inch or two of snow.
I expect it's too big and too late for all of us.
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