It’s the season of geese. Their annual climate migration is a noisy murmuration of arrows as they take off to a place where the water is more welcoming, the weather is more hospitable and food is more abundant. Water, weather, and food—the essentials that motivate us animals to move and settle. Each year when we hear the geese migrate, my partner and I ask ourselves if where we live right now in central Oregon is still the best place for us to be. Because water, weather and food are changing faster than we are. Our lives have slowed to the pace of old bones but clouds, wind and heat seem to be accelerating. So even though there is beauty all around us, we re-evaluate our environment and assess the relative risks to our safety and security. We consider whether in the years ahead, we could become climate migrants and we look for ways to avoid that.
This is an aspect of aging that we are learning on the fly. As our future gets shorter, our plans change with the climate. I was born in 1954. Recently the year 2050 has become a popular target for prognostications about drought, storms, and crop failures. If I’m dead, I’m sure I’ll be fine. But if I’m alive, what calamity will I be facing? It doesn’t sound promising. When I consider the science, I see that the charts and graphs for clouds, wind and heat do not bode well. The inconvenient truth is that we olds will be challenged to maintain our future quality of life as much because of our changing bodies as because of changes in water, weather and food. So, I’m looking for ways to protect my 90 year old self now while I still have wits and stamina.
I read the newsletters and emails from our utilities. We are living closer to the river, so I’m making it a priority to understand the water system both in terms of flooding and tap water. This summer our water utility had a practice run for their emergency water system. City residents were invited to visit their designated neighborhood emergency water station and learn how to use it. I was surprised to find out that even though they have a set-up to provide water in an emergency, it is not potable water because in the case of a loss of electricity, the water sanitation plant would not be operating. So, the water would need to be boiled. This led to a conversation with my partner about how we would cook without electricity. See where I’m going with this?
I can build a fire to cook but I can’t use it to recharge my phone or my computer. No electricity means no gas stations, no grocery store, and limited healthcare. For me, the water system is intuitive. But I admit my ignorance about electricity. I don’t even know what the grid really is. I see electrical infrastructure but I don’t know what function it serves and how it’s all connected. A few times a year our power goes out and we are reminded how dependent we are on our electric utility. But the power has always returned within a day or two. A couple years ago we had an ice storm and rural people were without power for a couple weeks because the utility prioritized city repairs. Now our electric utility puts out a newsletter and a prepper guide for living without electricity for an extended period of time. Helpful, but also alarming. Recent news stories have alerted us to regional electric supply issues. Yet we are not being asked to conserve. Does anybody know what the supply chain for electricity is? I’m having pandemic flashbacks.
My partner is more rugged and less inclined to worry than I am. We are both from Illinois and we have that undergirding of practicality. We live an outdoor lifestyle of gardening, fishing and boating, dog walking and leaving the windows open. At this age, we could live without running water and heat and our appliances. But a decade from now when we’re 80+, that same scenario feels threatening. If we suddenly had to leave, we are organized and everything we would need to take with us fits in one car. But imagining my 80 year old self living in a car feels like failure. So does trying to sleep on a cot in a gymnasium. That’s why I’m worrying now.
No matter how well we plan, climate migration could be in our future. Shit happens and it could happen to us. So many people have lost their homes to storms, floods and fires. We don’t have to imagine what that looks like. The images of destruction are everywhere. As olds we are particularly vulnerable. So, eyes wide open. We talk about the risks. We read the local news. We support our local farms. We consider the resilience of our friends and neighbors. We embed ourselves in an aware community, organize our lives, learn the science and stay alert for indicators of change. The future is going to be fierce. Watching geese form their arrows in the sky reminds us we are not alone. Collaboration is key. Let’s do our advance planning now.
