When it hit above 43 degrees celsius in Sydney, weird things started happening. And by weird, I mean that bats. Just. Die. They can’t regulate their heat anymore. They just fall down and die. Loads of them. Birds stop singing, because it’s too hot to sing.
The world just goes quiet.
And there’s me, standing there, thinking: well, more people need to know about this. There’s the abstract effect of climate change, but there’s that back of the neck chill, that absolute atavistic *fear* that something has gone terribly, terribly wrong when *the birds don’t sing anymore*.
That’s what climate change is. Yes, yes, sea levels rising, increased instability due to food security and everything else.
But it’s going to get too hot for the birds to sing.