Thursday, or Thereabouts - June 8, 2023

Looking outside these days, one would think that given the time of year, June not December, that a hot humid air mass would suffocate me if I stepped outside my door. Not so! It's a cool 16°C (61°F) and the hazy air stinks. Current AQI(US scale) as of 12:00 June 8 for Newmarket, the largest town near me: 164 - UNHEALTHY. Toronto is 132.

my street - the haze has been worse and is much worse in the city.

Plumes of smoke from wildfires in Quebec and Ontario's northeast waft across the land, obscuring the sun and carrying hazardous levels of tiny particles. These fine particles measure 2.5 microns (2.5/1000mm) or less and cannot be seen by our eyes (for reference human hair is around 70 microns). That small size makes them efficient infiltrators of deep lung tissue.

Smokey Sunset

I learned this first hand when I was in China in 2014.  I wrote in my journal: 

By evening on the second day in Shanghai,  I was stricken with an eye-watering, choking cough that erupted with almost every breath. 2am found me on the floor in the bathroom struggling for air and crying. I was sure the trip was over for me. I crawled back into bed where even sitting straight up sleep managed to find me for a scant 3 hours. It was enough to ease a some of my anxiety but I was still plagued intermittently by choked off breathing accompanied by a profound sluggishness of body and soul; every movement was an effort. 

Not a happy experience and the lung damage was a permanent, though not debilitating mild to moderate asthma. I don't get anxious about that anymore. I have meds and boxes of N95masks. The windows are kept shut, HVAC runs, and I'm spending most my day indoors. 

Still, I'm finding life these days frustrating and uneasy at the same time. Frustrating because there are things I'd like to be doing outside especially as it is so cool, but the air quality dictates otherwise. Anxious because rain still has not come and so the surrounding forests of predominantly pine stand like Roman candles just waiting for a spark. The forest fire risk is extreme. And all I can do is be aware, be vigilant, and be careful about both air and fire.

I got this!

©2023 April Hoeller

Monday Meander - June 5, 2023

I'm struggling to find any enthusiasm for kicking off my wagon into the first full week of June. Such inertia is fueled in no small part by the pall of forest fire smoke hanging in the air these days, all coming from Quebec and northern Ontario. Last night I could actually smell it and the full strawberry moon glowed a Halloween orange in the night sky. 

This morning's forecasts are dominated by air quality statements with little chance of significant rain until perhaps the weekend.

https://instantweather.ca/2023/06/05/wZRS6S-special-air-quality-statement-issued/ 

And by tomorrow, the fire danger risk is forecast to reach "Extreme" for my part of the province (circled in yellow).

https://cwfis.cfs.nrcan.gc.ca/maps/fw?type=fdr&year=2023&month=06&day=06

Is this the future of summers? 

I toured my garden this morning with these gloomy thoughts playing in my head.
The iris seemed uninterested in my lament. 

The lupins just smiled and waved, 

And the pansies remained blissfully unaware. 

I'm sure I heard them giggling with yellow delight!

So the message from the garden would seem to be:

            And one more thing...

PLEASE

Be fire smart!

Be aware. Be vigilant.

©2023 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - June 1, 2023

 

Summer has jumped the gun this year, rushing her entrance onto my doorstep a full three weeks before the solstice. Her usual entourage of bugs - black flies, mosquitoes, deer flies, and ants - are all present and correct for June 21 too. Even the "Bobbsey Twins", high humidity and poor air quality have shown up this week along with a heat warning in tow. My plants and flowers which last week were dodging frost, are this week crying out for copious drinks and umbrellas. There has been no rain here since May 20th and so the fire danger is high. Please, PLEASE be vigilant.

Watching my grandchildren splashing in their backyard wading pool this past Sunday brought back a flood of memories. 

Hot! Hot! Hot! So hot the tar bubbles up between the pebbles on the road; round, shiny black globs. I can smell the tar - acrid gasoline fumes rise up from the road surface. My flip flops stick haphazardly as I walk; sometimes a step is unhindered, other times the foam sole sticks then releases raising fine black strands of gooeyness. Round flat, black globs decorate the bottom of my favourite summer footwear. I scuff over to the lawn hoping the grass will wipe away the sticky tar. It's futile. Now I have flipflops with green grass clippings stuck to them. 

Happy days with wind in my face bike rides, 5¢ popsicles, 10¢ ice cream cones, Coppertone® sun tan lotion or maybe just a coating of baby oil (there was no sunscreen), big circulating fans swirling in the windows (the only A/C we had), family bbq's, and a backyard pool made summer an absolute delight.

me just chillin', 1972

Freshly filled in the first week of June each year, the water temperature began as a bracing 16°C (61°F) and then crawled it's way up to a blistering 23°C (74°F) by mid-August, aided at least in some small part by my mother and I dumping buckets of hot water to it while Dad was at work!

Dad's idea of chillin' in the pool, 1972

Mom 1971

My version of taking a dive, 1972

Stay cool folks. Be fire smart.

©2023 April Hoeller