Stubborn heat remains. I feel like a weather reporter more than a writer these days, but sometimes that’s all a writer can do: report the conditions of reality. I can’t get over the loss of autumn; it’s like the loss of a friend. The temperature of the earth should be built into stock prices, we shouldn’t be able to profit off the death of nature, the natural world….

Technology, “growth” — these are both friends and foes. Friends when deployed intentionally, foes when blindly.

Why aren’t we making tools that plant more trees, purify water, harvest food waste for energy? —why aren’t ecological goals everybodys’ goals? Why do we have billion dollar industries built around selling kitsch? — around wasted time; soul-emptying?

Look around at this brown, hot, dusty October. It doesn’t tell you everything is fine. It doesn’t tell you to carry on. It’s telling you to change your life.