Frozen Tomatoes

We put out our tomato plants early, we always do, and cover them when frost threatens.  It's a practice that has been successful for a couple decades but not this year.  Twenty five degrees for several hours was more than the covered plants could tolerate and they froze.  We gambled once too often. The way we’d always done it failed.

In the world beyond our driveway there remains a lot of uncertainty.  The move to reopen the economy in stages is justified by some but deemed an act of stupidity by others. Our community made national news when COVID-19 forced a shut down of a local meat processing plant.  The occupant of the Oval Office ordered the employees back to work so our safety should now be assumed.  Meanwhile, the consumer price index is dropping precipitously, unemployment remains at record highs, millions are in dire straits.  Yesterday I picked up a prescription where insurance paid about $30 on a $300 drug and I thought about the millions who are having to decide between medication and food or rent.  I thought how frequently people lose everything when a health issue strikes. I thought how living paycheck to paycheck makes people extremely vulnerable and how so many paychecks have suddenly ceased.

A couple years ago US News published an article ranking all 50 states by pollution using two metrics: industrial toxins and pollution health risks. Indiana ranked 49th.  Meanwhile construction is underway on a zinc recycling plant upwind of our fair city that promises to emit lead, mercury, and other toxic particulate while consuming large amounts of coal and belching massive quantities of CO2.  The promise isn't made by the company but by a plethora of independent scientists who have researched a sister plant as well as similar facilities around the world.  The Indiana Economic Development Corporation is offering the company up to $5 million in conditional tax credits.  Indiana, ranked the 49th polluter, wants this industry.  So do our county commissioners.

I put out a piece on social media regarding the potential harmful effects of mercury on local fish populations, nesting and overwintering bald eagles, and the environment in general.  Later, in a live radio broadcast, county commissioners found humor in the concept, one having mentioned that releasing mercury was a necessary and unavoidable price of growth.

A thunderstorm is approaching. Lee is out collecting items for a kitchen vase. Today it's a riot of lilac, crabapple, dogwood, and a smattering of ferns.  The cardinals in the yew just outside the window have fledged.  Orioles are here in admirable numbers, lining up at the jelly feeders, fussing with each other, focused on the tasks of claiming territories, building nests, rearing young.  Some things are progressing nicely, on schedule, and for the better.

I know someone who has taken on the full weight of all that threatens our natural world, all the evidence that brings to light our civilization’s certain demise unless dramatic change is implemented.  She sees the threats, losses and solutions all at once and it’s a soul crushing experience. Yet she finds joy in life, finds the beauty around her and clings to a hope that is at times fleeting and hard to grasp.  She smiles often, displays a tenderness and appreciation towards all life, has a twinkle in her eye, but behind it is a thorough awareness of an impending trainwreck. She’s on the train and her awareness has bought her a ticket to ride.

Also on the train is a world of passengers but most have invalid tickets. There are deniers, and multiple cars filled with ill informed or apathetic passengers who embrace perpetual growth and a consumer driven economy with no consideration for limited resources, industrial consequences or the need for sustainability. There are those unopposed to hard work and bent on getting their piece of the pie at any cost. There are those so burdened with debt or life situations that a clear minded look at ecological well being seems beyond consideration. And there are those resistant to change or who care less and none have earned their ticket.

We’re all on the train, enjoying the comfort and scenery passing by, but only few hear the diesel engines or contemplate the true environmental costs of the ride. To have genuine hope we need passengers who have paid the fare with an awareness that each of us has a role to play, that our daily decisions from the foods we eat and the transportation we choose to the products we buy and the businesses and leaders we support can collectively keep the train on track. It’s not up to others, but us.

The tomatoes have been replanted and are settled in nicely after an inch of slow and steady rain. For the rest of the garden the forecast assures warming soils and germinating seeds. The sun is lighting a sky made cleaner by a temporary virus-driven economic shutdown. Our local community breaks ground on a polluting industry for the sake of jobs and growth. The shortcomings of an unjust healthcare system are brought to the fore. Those with eyes open get a glimpse of the depth of our problems, the healing ability of the planet, and the need for us all to pony up for a ticket.