nature – Low Entropy

Low Entropy Volunteer Writer Prateek Sur opens up about how climate change has affected his personal and family life, and how it pushed him to move from India to Canada.

There is no denying the fact that climate change is real. Having grown up in India and having stayed in a few different cities across the country that have varied climates, I can clearly say that the climatic condition has changed a lot.

I grew up in a city called Jamshedpur for the first 17 years of my life, and ended up enjoying all climatic and weather conditions. We used to have summers between mid-March and mid-June. Then the monsoons used to last from mid-June to the end of August. After that, in September and October, we would have the autumn season, and from November till mid-February we would have the winters. Lastly, from mid-February to mid-March, we would have the spring season.

But this weather pattern has completely changed now. It’s been almost 15 years now since I lived in Jamshedpur, but I visit every now and then, as my parents live there. Whenever I go, the weather is never what it used to be in my childhood. The summers are drastically longer; the winters have reduced considerably. The interim seasons of spring and autumn are somewhat lost or perhaps reduced to just a couple of days. Seeing this, I feel that climate change is indeed real.

After my initial 17 years in Jamshedpur, I moved to the city of Chennai in the southern part of India. The weather here was completely different from what I was used to in Jamshedpur. It was summers throughout the year except for mid-November to mid-January, when it used to rain heavily. I stayed there for five years and never had I ever experienced any form of winter there.

For the last 10 years, I have been living in Mumbai, which also has pretty much the same weather as Chennai. It has summers year-round, with monsoons coming in from June to August. The monsoons are when the weather is the best in Mumbai, as you don’t feel the enormous humid heat. However, the rains are so intense that during the monsoons you’ll be forced to stay indoors for most of the day, as the roads will get clogged due to waterlogging.

I’ve also stayed in a number of other cities, domestic and abroad, albeit for shorter durations. However, it has almost always been in the tropics.

One very prominent thing that I’ve noticed all through my life is the increase in the summers and the intensity of the heat. We all have heard about how, due to the greenhouse effect caused by pollution and the enormous amount of carbon monoxide we’re producing year-round, the Earth’s temperature is increasing slowly and steadily. The ice caps in Antarctica and the Arctic Circle are melting at an alarming rate. That is causing sea levels to rise, and there will come a day in the next 70-80 years when the coastal cities will be submerged in the oceans or seas. A city like Mumbai is one of the top five that are facing this impending elimination from the face of the Earth.

The heat levels in Mumbai used to be at a year-round high of 42 degree centigrade in the 1990s, and now it has gone up to 48 degrees centigrade. It is predicted that, in a couple of decades, the maximum temperature would exceed 50 degrees centigrade.

This is one of the reasons why I am planning to move to Canada, possibly Vancouver. I have been an advocate of living in my country all my life, but the climatic conditions in Mumbai are growing unbearable. On top of that, the amount of pollution that we’re living in never seems to lessen.

For my family, I would like to live in a better climatic condition. Climatic changes are affecting my family adversely and I would love to lead a better life where I can have peace of mind in a place with cooler weather.

In closing, I would like to emphasize that climate change is real. We, as a human race, have all the facilities and technologies to improve it. The only thing needed is the will to stand up and change ourselves and our ways. The sooner we do that, the longer our generations will survive. We have to understand that nature and climate is not something that we have inherited from our ancestors; rather it’s something that we have borrowed from future generations, and we need to preserve it so that our grandchildrens’ grandchildren can also enjoy the benefits of the environment.

How are things where you live? Let us know in the comments below or on any of our social media channels!

Low Entropy Volunteer Writer Daniel Wilkens takes us on a walk through a secluded, beloved place.

We are surrounded by chaos. Threats of job loss gnaw away at our feelings of security. We are bombarded with images of unrest and upheaval. Our very lives are threatened by a disease that seems determined to hunt us down – an enemy we can’t even see.

These factors and hundreds of others are fixtures of our current society. These stressors take a huge emotional toll. They suck out our spirit, deplete us of our internal resources and erode our confidence. They rob us of our ability (or our perception of our ability) to protect ourselves and our loved ones.

It’s never been more important to find a way to ground ourselves, to take a step back from the madness. ‘Getting away from it all’ is a cliché – but regaining focus can sometimes mean literally and physically ’getting away.’ Think of a place of fond past memories, a place of happiness or solitude – a place that’s important to you personally. I’m going to suggest that one way to stay sane in a crazy world is to frequent a location that soothes you. Of course we need to follow whatever current health and safety guidelines are required, including masks and our ability to social distance. Be smart and safe. But when possible, think about a place you love and go there.

The Delight of Discovery

There are a lot of places I hold near and dear. The one I’m thinking of right now is a tiny beach on the south coast of Lake Erie, Ontario. By ‘tiny’ I mean a few hundred meters of shoreline at most. It’s not pristine or perfectly groomed. It doesn’t get the attention of the bigger stretches of sand like Port Stanley or Nickel Beach. The narrow access roadway leads down to a parking area big enough to accommodate six cars. While some parents bring their kids on a hot August afternoon and a few hardy locals make the trek down to walk their dogs, it is definitely secluded. It’s not remote, but it’s not overrun either.

Sometimes traces of humankind are all that’s visible. Holes may dot the sand-scape where beach umbrellas sat, shielding their owners from the searing sun. Small canine footprints follow smaller human footprints wherever they wander. More often, it’s nature leaving clues behind. Seagull tracks, raccoon tracks and possum tracks are evident at water’s edge. Tracks of coyotes or skunks will lead to a half-eaten fish, its final resting place a shallow scar on the dunes. Even mice or voles can leave their mini prints in the silky wet sand of a May morning. Every set of tracks tells a tale if you care to read them.

In the summer it is a hot spot, scorched grasses waving over sizzling sand. In the late fall the storms come, howling their rage and lambasting the pier with sky-scraping waves. The winter is quiet and white, ice stretching out well into the bay. In the spring it smells fresh, the water still freezing cold for those anxious enough for summer to give it a splash.

The delight of discovery knows no seasons. Driftwood is strewn and scattered, twisting into magnificent art forms. Flat stones call out, begging to be skipped. Beach glass is everywhere, polished by tides and glinting in the bright orange light. Fossil shells have stories to tell, feathers and bones do too.

I had a period where I visited almost daily for a few months and I thought of it in my head as a place of familiarity, a place of sameness. Which it is, in a fashion. But more than that, it is a place of perpetual change. When I did finally make the association between this tranquil getaway and constant flux, it was almost a revelation. The relief I feel when I visit comes not from predictability, but from the anticipation of seeing something new.

This short stretch of water meeting shoreline is always in motion. Not just season-to-season as you might expect, but day-to-day and minute-by-minute. It’s never the same twice and I find that very reassuring.

Identify, Embrace, Energize

Your place of comfort doesn’t have to be as dramatic as a hidden, wind-swept beach. It can be your usual park bench, a historic clock tower, a fountain in the city square or a favourite old chair. Places that can be visited safely and privately. What’s important is to identify these places and embrace their potency. A place you love is a place of power, of rejuvenation and regeneration. A place you love is somewhere you can go and reaffirm to yourself, ‘I know who I am’ and ‘I feel stronger now, I can face my challenges.’

Think about a place you love, and go there.

Where would you go? Let us know in the comments, or take the very short journey over to a special place that Low Entropy has created for our inclusive and supportive community and share your memories and experiences!

Tag: nature

Too Hot to Handle

A Place You Love