The Dippin-Dot Snowflakes
Snowflakes melt and vanish, but we don’t. We are the dippin-dots . We don’t melt. We linger. We bend, but we don’t break. There was a time when “save the owl” was common sense. In 1990, the northern spotted owl was listed as threatened, and logging in huge stretches of the Pacific Northwest simply stopped. Not paused for debate. Stopped. Crews packed up. Contracts froze. The forest stayed standing because a law said the owl mattered. Now, in this season of wanting to dismantle the EPA , letting tailings from open mines run straight into creeks, fiddling like Nero while we jog back toward a future where the Cuyahoga burns again, it earns a smirk. The kind that says, that’s cute, but we’re talking about real things here. Somewhere along the way, the language of care became the language of weakness. It didn’t happen overnight. It crept in over years, while power hungry leaders aligned with big money interests, selling the story that saving an owl or a whale was against business, agai...