as a lifelong california resident, I can remark that there is a quiet but omnipresent fear one feels living in a place that in the wake of climate change becomes increasingly and frighteningly susceptible to natural disasters. this week brought torrential rain and flooding to our beloved town, and local residents in montecito, carpinteria, and areas of santa barbara received dreaded evacuation orders, harkening back to the devastating wildfires and deadly mudslides that hit this very region exactly five years ago. statewide, areas are similarly experiencing storms, flooding and debris flow. these conditions can be terrifying, but disturbingly commonplace in our home state of california.

in my childhood, the fear was of earthquakes. I was in kindergarten during the 1989 san francisco earthquake, and I recall being at daycare in a violently shaking stairwell, unknown when my parents would be able to safely reach me. it was terrifying to think that could ever happen again, yet as I grew up I knew that living in san francisco, an earthquake could happen at any time. so as an adult, you learned to be prepared. you would make an emergency plan, prep a go-bag. you bought the best disaster insurance you could afford and prayed you'd never have to use it. 

then in 2017 a wave of catastrophic wildfires hit california over the course of just a few months. in the bay area where I lived, a series of wildfires in napa and sonoma killed 43 people and wiped out over 100,000 acres. every year since then, the disasters have been increasingly frequent and no area seems insusceptible to something really scary happening where you live. I've known friends who have left the state completely due to the fear of disasters being too great, the inevitable thick acrid air of smoke from nearby fires too much to bear, the danger of your dream house on a picturesque mountainside too easy to imagine going up in flames during each year’s wildfire season.

before monday I couldn't begin to know what it's like to receive an evacuation notice in the face of disaster, pack my family and a go-bag, and flee my home with complete uncertainty around how I might find it upon a return that is unknown. that fear feels a little closer now, along with the conclusion that living in what feels like paradise has its price.

so this week as the storm clears I feel compelled to take control, in little ways and whatever big ways I can muster, as fear often gives way as a catalyst for change. maybe that is picking up trash off our beaches now littered with debris and microplastics. or getting serious about drastically reducing plastic usage in our lives. or the million little choices we make that matter, collectively, in the pursuit of something better for this place that we love and a planet that deserves more. it sometimes feels like that’s all we can do and at the same time maybe it is the very best thing we can do.

wishing safety to everyone who is weathering these ongoing storms.