It's for the Birds, for Our State, for Ourselves

I'm not sure where this blog entry will put me on the spectrum of environmentalism, but I know where I stand on global warming.

On this year's ballot in Washington state, voters have the opportunity to decide whether to pass Initiative 732, which calls for instituting a carbon tax in the state. I previously blogged about the effort to put the initiative on the ballot in this post. I even collected signatures in support of the initiative during summer 2015, a time when Washington blew away heat records on a daily basis.

Mount Rainier and some of its receding glaciers.

When I-732 earned enough signatures to reach this year's ballot, I felt happy. That happiness faded when I saw several environmental groups, including the Sierra Club, line up against the initiative because they felt it didn't go far enough in addressing global warming. I wondered where that put me as an environmentalist.

As I considered the points of those opposing the initiative, I thought of the reasons I had supported it in the first place. I concluded that my environmental perspective required me to vote for I-732, and last week, I sent in my yes vote. Below are a few reasons why I voted yes.

I voted for I-732 because I saw the corpses of starved seabirds wash up on the Washington coast in August 2015.

I voted for I-732 because I saw the Nisqually Glacier on Mount Rainier melting away in the July 2015 heat.

I voted for I-732 because I saw Washington state, the place I love more than any other on the planet, dry up, bake, and burn last year.

I voted for I-732 because the Pacific Northwest is part of me, a part I couldn't bear losing.

In the end, I didn't vote as an environmentalist. I voted for birds, my state, and myself. I hope those are good enough reasons, and I hope other Washingtonians will find their own reasons to vote yes on I-732.

Farewell Tour

Recession of the Nisqually Glacier at Mount Rainier

When I came home to Washington state this summer, I said goodbye.

Early in the spring semester while working at the University of South Dakota, I started making plans for my summer in Washington. I wanted to go back to Olympic National Park and Mount St. Helens. Also, I wanted to visit Mount Rainier for the first time. That mountain had watched over so much of my life, but I had never been up to it.

Accompanied by my family, I was able to keep all my plans, and I had a great time doing it. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing old friends and the state where I grew up.

Global warming is tearing apart my home state this summer with drought and heat. Two weeks after I visited Olympic National Park, one of the wettest places in the world, a massive fire started there. Days before I visited Mount St. Helens, the state Department of Ecology declared that Washington's snowpack was at zero percent of normal levels. Sure enough, the only snow I saw on that trip was at the top of St. Helens and in the volcano's shaded crater. Then, days before I went to Mount Rainier, a news story ran about the mountain's disappearing Nisqually Glacier. I was sure to take pictures of the glacier and its recession on my trip because I wasn't sure how many more chances I'll get to see it.

I was glad about my choice to visit these icons of Washington this summer. Global warming is changing them, and I needed something of the way they were to keep as a last memory. That's what we must do when we say goodbye.

Rain, moderate temperatures, snow: The band has broken up in Washington, and in the words of singer Michelle Branch, "Goodbye to you. Goodbye to everything that I knew. You were the one I loved, the one thing I tried to hold onto."