Tag: nature

creativity

What an albatross, a whale, and a tortoise taught me about aging

Christa Avampato
The Laysan albatross known as Wisdom in December 2016 at Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge, Kristina McOmber/Kupu Conservation Leadership Development Program and USFWS, Public Domain, https://www.fws.gov/media/laysan-albatross-known-wisdom-december-2016-midway-atoll-national-wildlife-refuge

Wisdom the albatross, bowhead whales, and Jonathan the tortoise taught me to age well. We equate aging with loss, and often forget that aging has bonuses, too. Age contains stories and experience, wisdom and strength. As more time passes, the more I understand that every moment counts. Aging has shown me what matters, and just important, what doesn’t. My capacity for love, gratitude, generosity, vulnerability, and openness increases every day. The older I get, the more I value my relationships and community.

In Indigenous cultures, as in nature, aging is the ultimate prize. Artists of all mediums also understand the power of aging. I know my writing now is better than it was 10 years ago, and 10 years from now it will be better still. I think it’s one reason I was drawn to becoming a writer – it’s a skill that gets better with age.

Aging is a privilege denied to many. Having nearly lost my battle with cancer several times, I know how lucky I am to be here, how fortunate I am every day to get another day. Nature understands this, too. Nature is filled with examples of individuals and species that get better with age and defy stereotypes. Below are three of my favorite nature stories about the gifts of aging.

The many loves of Wisdom the albatross
Wisdom, a senior female Laysan albatross, is a prime example of how to thrive in old age. She was banded in 1956 by legendary ornithologist, Chandler Robbins. He died in 2017, so Wisdom has outlived the man who most closely studied her – something no one would have believed nearly 70 years ago when they first met.

This species is monogamous and mates for life. Wisdom has outlived at least three mates. Scientists estimate she’s had 50 – 60 offspring in her lifetime. Not too shabby for a bird who was rearing young during the Eisenhower administration.

At the ripe old age of 74, Wisdom is preparing to welcome another chick early this year with her current, much-younger mate. 74 is ancient for this species. The average age in the wild is 30 and after Wisdom, the next oldest known Laysan albatross is 45.

Losing someone we love, especially someone we’ve built a life with, is a painful and difficult loss. I admire Wisdom for embracing every new chapter, for leaving herself open to the possibility to love in every season of her very long life.

Whales sing to survive
Bowhead whales are the longest-living mammal species. In 2007, a harpoon tip was found in the blubber of a bowhead whale; the harpoon was from the late 1800s. Recent research has found they can live to be over 200 years.

Bowheads live in the Arctic Seas, some of the harshest environments in the world. They’re able to thrive there because of their strong communications skills; studies have shown they have as many as 184 distinct songs composed of a vast array of sounds. They use these songs to find food and navigate in a world dominated by icy darkness. Their strong sense of community and their ability to freely and generously share information with one another helps them thrive despite the challenges in this difficult ecosystem.

Slow and steady, Jonathan the tortoise wins the race
Jonathan the Seychelles giant tortoise is an animal who helped save my life. He lives on the island of Saint Helena off the southwestern coast of Africa. The oldest known living land animal, he’s estimated to be a minimum of 192 years old, born decades before the U.S. Civil War.

When I was going through cancer treatment, I’d often find myself staring at the ceiling at 3am, wracked with anxiety and worry. I’d switch on Wonder, a Calm app sleep story by Matthew McConaughey, and he’d talk about how somewhere in the world Jonathan was turning his face up to the stars, pondering the passing of another day. Though the world had radically transformed during his lifetime, Jonathan lived moment-to-moment, taking life as it comes. Thinking about Jonathan, I’d feel my breathing slow, and my mind would stop racing. He lived life day-by-day, savoring each one. I could do that, too. We all can.   

Nature provides all the insight and inspiration I need aging. All these animals have much to teach us about living long and well into our golden years: Embrace love, nurture community, share openly, sing, and live each moment. I have no need for the anti-aging products that glut the market and my social media feeds. I’ll stick with the 3.8 billion years of experience amassed by nature and offered to us by our elders such as Wisdom, bowhead whales, and Jonathan. As they say in the movie When Harry Met Sally, “I’ll have what they’re having.”

creativity

In winter, nature shows us how to endure difficult times

Christa Avampato
Photo by Greg Johnson on Unsplash

Last week, it snowed in New Orleans, Pensacola, and Houston. In New York City, where I live, we had windchills in the single digits. Late one evening, I was hustling home from the subway, bundled from head to toe. My mind swirled with the news from this week; I was struggling to figure out how to make a difference. How might I flood my corner of the world with love and light? How might I take care of living beings who need my help?

I turned onto my block. The street lamps made the snow on my beautiful London Plane trees glow. They’re original to the neighborhood – over 100 years old and 100 feet tall. I stopped and looked up at them, even though the cold stung my face. I smiled, admiring their beauty and strength. They’ve lived through so much change and continued to flourish.  What could I learn from them, and nature as a whole, that would help me survive and thrive in the harsh conditions we’re facing?

How animals winter
Nature bears winter’s difficulties through many adaptations. Some animals conserve energy by entering a deep sleep that lowers their metabolic rate and body temperature. Some grow thicker fur to insulate themselves. Others bulk up, eating their fill when food is plentiful in the fall and storing fat that will sustain them during the meager winter months. And others migrate – seeking out better conditions elsewhere until they can return home.  

How plants winter
Plants, including my London Plane trees, have a powerful set of winter adaptations. Some trees grow thicker bark, just as animals grow thicker fur, to insulate themselves. Many plants and trees have seeds adorned with a scaly shell on the outside and soft hairs on the inside that act like a down coat, protecting the seed to survive the cold so they can root and bloom when spring arrives, and conditions improve. Like some animals, plants can also go into a deep sleep, shedding their leaves and sending their sugars into their roots for storage. They focus on developing those root systems below ground, where it’s warm and safe. This work on their roots, nourished by the sugars, allows them to regenerate their leaves each spring.   

What nature teaches us about wintering
While some of us might like to hibernate or migrate until our difficulties pass, that isn’t feasible for most of us. Let’s look deeper at the adaptations of animals and plants during the winter and ask, “How does nature endure difficult times?” These are the underlying design principles that we could adapt from nature’s wintering and adopt in our own lives:

Conserve and bolster energy
When times are difficult and resources are scarce, rest and recharge. Like some of our animal kin, that might mean sleep though most of us don’t have the luxury of a hibernation season. Instead, we may find rest by reading a book, creating art, writing, listening or playing music, or any other hobby, pastime, or passion project. It could be volunteering, cooking and baking, seeing friends, learning something new, playing a sport and exercising. Whatever allows you to release stress, relax, and reenergize fits the bill.  

Create some distance
Though we can’t always migrate and move away from the difficulty, we can find ways to temporarily escape and take a break from our troubles. Again, this could be through our hobbies. It could be a vacation or staycation. It could be self-care and time alone, or time with others who make us happy. Even a good meal, yoga class, movie, or a few moments of meditation can give us some distance. Microjoys – small moments of joy that we seek out and create every day – can be tremendous asset when daily life is challenging. Microjoys got me through cancer and other traumatic events in life. Joy is an act of love and resistance.

Protect and defend
Just as animals grow thicker fur and trees thicker bark, we also go through chapters in life when we need to insulate ourselves. There are many methods to do this – trimming our expenses, increasing our savings, and taking on some contract work can insulate us economically; exercising, eating healthfully, getting therapy or counseling, and making sure we’re up-to-date on all of our medical appointments helps us take care of our physical and mental health; being in community with people helps us feel less alone and better supported as we reciprocate and provide support for others.  

Equip our young people and those who are vulnerable
Similar to the way a plant gives seeds a scaly coat and downy insulation to protect the seeds until spring, our young people and those who are vulnerable need protection and safety. In communities, organizations, and schools, we can collectively provide these safe spaces for those who need shelter from the storm and set them on a path for a better future.

Make progress where it’s possible to build a better future
Plants send sugars to their roots because the roots are protected underground from the harsh reality of winter. Below ground, they cultivate strength and resilience to utilize when the light and warmth of spring finds them. What can we learn now that can help us in the future? What parts of our inner lives can we work on now when exterior circumstances make outward progress difficult? How can we make ourselves better so we can do better in the days ahead?

Everyone faces challenges – seasons of scarcity and seasons of plenty. Many times, these are driven by external circumstances beyond our control. Nature offers us a blueprint to help us adapt in times of difficulty and prosper in times of abundance. We would do well to follow nature’s lead.   

creativity

How nature rebuilds after a fire

Christa Avampato
Photo by Caleb Cook on Unsplash

In 2009, my New York City apartment building caught fire. I lost nearly everything I owned, and I almost got trapped in the building. I’ve written a lot about that incident, the terrifying PTSD that followed, and the therapist and friends who helped lead me out of the darkness I’d shoved down my entire life up to that point so I could fully step into the light for the first time. (You can read some of those pieces here and here.)

Watching the coverage of the LA fires and doing whatever I can to help people there wasn’t triggering for me. However, it did leave me with a profound sadness because I know first-hand how painful it is to lose everything and then face the difficulty of rebuilding my life and my mental health. It’s a long and winding road. Fire physically, chemically, and irreversibly alters everything it touches, us included.

When I’m sad, confused, or lost, I often turn to nature. As a biomimicry scientist, it’s become a habit for me to ask, “What would nature do?” Nature has faced fire for hundreds of megaannums; the first evidence of it appears in the fossil record about 420 million years ago, with charcoaled plant remains. (By comparison, the mass extinction of dinosaurs happened about 66 million years ago.) When destroyed by fire, how does nature rebuild? Time, variety, and assistance.

Rebuilding requires time
The dramatic before and after photos of a fire may lead us to believe that the rebuilding begins as soon as the fire is snuffed out. However, without plants to anchor the soil, storms that follow wildfires can cause even more damage through massive flooding and erosion. The post-fire damage can continue for years.

After my fire, my PTSD caused years of difficulty, long after I had a new home and had replaced my belongings. This was also true when I finished active cancer treatment many years later. The effects of life-altering events cannot be immediately known. Healing isn’t linear and it often takes longer than we’d like. The impacts unfold at a pace that we don’t control. Give yourself the space and grace to take it all in, process it, and move forward on whatever timeline you need.

Rebuilding requires variety
After a fire, nature re-establishes itself by re-anchoring the soil. Native plants that have that ability are the first to take root. That includes hardy varieties of grasses, trees, and shrubs that can survive through harsh conditions. Their ability to stabilize the landscape paves the way for an even greater variety of plants to return with time.

When we’re rebuilding, we can feel overwhelmed. We want everything to immediately go back to the way it was, and the fact that we know it can’t be that way can leave us feeling paralyzed. Focusing on one step at a time and prioritizing immediate steps that make other steps possible, can help.

When I moved into my new apartment after my fire, I had 2 plastic CVS bags of belongings and an air mattress I borrowed from a friend. The emptiness of that space gave me so much anxiety. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and asked myself, “What do I need right now?” I needed a toothbrush, a towel, and some soap. So, I went and got those three small things. That was the groundwork I needed on that first day, in that first moment. The rest could wait.

Rebuilding requires assistance
While these native plants begin to grow, invasive species will often try to muscle their way into the space. Rewilders and forestry experts will often give nature a hand by removing invasive species, allowing native plants the time, space, and resources they need to grow and develop.

My PTSD was an invasive species. Anxiety, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts tried to set up shop in my mind and body. Sometimes they succeeded. One time I woke up sitting on the sidewalk crying. I had no idea how I got there, nor how long I’d been there. My PTSD was causing me to have blackouts.

I was afraid to be home, and I was afraid to not be home. Every siren was cause for internal alarm, and New York City has a lot of sirens.

Friends and my therapist offered to help, and though I tried to brush them off, some were persistent. They were my rewilders. They showed up against my objections and began to help me pull the weeds of PTSD from my mind and body. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for any of us, but it was necessary. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. The PTSD would have taken over, preventing my recovery.

When you go through something traumatic, ask for and accept help. When you see someone going through trauma, don’t wait to be asked to help. Show up and lend a hand. None of us get through recovery alone.

Encouragement for Angelenos
Los Angeles, we’re with you. You’re not alone in any of this. This whole nation cares what happens to you, and we’ll continue to care and help you get back on your feet. The ground is already being seeded with love, donations, and generosity. The road to recovery will be long and difficult, and we’ll be there to build it with you. Nature has given us the blueprint.

creativity

The Serviceberry: The world’s wisest economist

Christa Avampato
Serviceberry. Photo by Georg Eiermann on Unsplash.

Could prizing generosity as much as we covet wealth, celebrity, and power be what saves us?

I recently read the book, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World by Robin Wall Kimmerer. It explores ecological economics, a field that centers the relationship between the natural world and the human-made economy.

The words “ecology” and “economy” originate from the same Greek word “oikos”, meaning “home”. Ecology and economy both involve studying and managing the environment in which we live­ — ecology being a nature-made home and economy being a human-made home.

With that shared history between “ecology” and “economy”, Dr. Kimmerer asks how we might model nature’s generosity to transform our human-made capitalist economy that works best for the wealthy into one that is healthy, high-functioning, and inclusive so that everyone thrives.

How might we move from a paradigm of haves and have-nots to everyone-has-enough? Can our capitalist economy transform into one rooted in generosity? What would that look like? How would it function?

Nature shows us that the key to generosity is trust. A serviceberry plant freely offers its delicious berries to animals knowing those animals will disperse its seeds. It’s part of their ecological agreement — an equal give and take that benefits everyone. This same type of equitable reciprocity exists throughout natural ecosystems, each member giving its resources and taking what it needs in return. Nature doesn’t hoard abundance, nature shares.

In this new year, already fraught with difficulties and loss on a massive scale, we can emulate the generosity of the serviceberry plant. We all have an abundance of something — talents, abilities, training and education, time, resources, kindness, love. We also all have needs. Somebody somewhere needs what we have, and somebody somewhere has what we need.

That matchmaking, that trust that if a call goes out it will be answered, is what’s helped nature flourish for millennia. We’re a part of nature, and it’s no different for us. Offer what you have to someone who needs it. Trust that when you ask for help in some form, someone who has an abundance of what you need will step forward. Nature shows us that navigating through difficulty is easier when we travel together.

If we can begin to bake nature’s example of trust and generosity into our own lives and extend it into our workplaces, schools, communities, and governments, we can start that shift that Dr. Kimmerer and ecological economists envision for us. Like the serviceberry plant, we’ll find generosity is a gift that returns to us season after season, creating the virtuous loop that is nature’s foundation and can be the bedrock of our future economy and society if we choose for it.

creativity

Sign up for Togetherhood – my nature newsletter

Christa Avampato
Sign up for Togetherhood – my nature newsletter

In my free weekly LinkedIn newsletter called Togetherhood, I share stories about nature’s wonders. Many of the posts are about my area of expertise— biomimicry. As a product developer, I apply nature’s designs to the human-built world to create a sustainable planet.

Read published posts and sign up to receive future posts here: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/togetherhood-7273771832221089792/

A little more about the newsletter – in case you need more convincing to subscribe 😉

1. Why this, why now

Right now we have a window of opportunity to halt and reverse the impacts of climate change. That window won’t be open forever, and if we are to protect and advance progress we need to act, together, now. I hope my stories about the wonders, wisdom, and beauty of nature will inspire all of us to take action to love, safeguard, and regenerate nature.

2. The kind of community you’ll find in the Togetherhood

This community is rooted in love, joy, respect, and curiosity for all species. We are here to learn together and support each other.

3. When I’ll share new stories

I’ll post once a week on Saturdays. I don’t have any plans to make this a paid newsletter. The content is free. It’s my gift to the world to share my expertise, support nature, and inspire wonder.

4. Join me in the Togetherhood

An old growth forest is one of my favorite environments and metaphors for life. It has wonders above and below ground. Every being in a forest is connected to every other being. It’s a web of life, literally and figuratively. I want the Togetherhood to be an old growth forest of stories. Let’s go have an adventure, together.

Read published posts and sign up to receive future posts here: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/togetherhood-7273771832221089792/

creativity

Sharks were my career coaches

Christa Avampato
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

I became a biomimicry scientist because of sharks.

I was on my way to work in 2018 listening to an episode of the Ologies podcast with Alie Ward. She was interviewing Dr. Chris Lowe, a leading shark researcher. He explained that sharks have an incredible self-healing adaptation. The ocean is a dangerous place, and sharks often sustain deep wounds. To stave off infection and promote rapid healing of their wounds, they have mucus on their skin that’s rich in a complex carbohydrate called glycan that has a unique composition. When Dr. Lowe talked about this, my product developer mind started spinning. If we could determine what unique component of the shark mucus promotes healing, we could apply that knowledge to healing human wounds. (This research is on-going, and in 2023, researchers determined mucus on the skin of sharks is rich in a complex carbohydrate called glycan that has a unique composition distinct from other fish.)

Years before I listened to this Ologies podcast episode, my boss, Bob G., had introduced me to Janine Benyus and her work in biomimicry — the sustainable application of adaptations in the natural world to the human-designed world. Working with Bob was my first product development job.

Growing up, I was a science and math kid. I abandoned my dream of being a scientist because a college professor my freshman year told me I, “had no mind for physics.” (More on that experience and how I DO have a mind for physics in a future article!) Instead, I majored in economics and history, continuing to love science as a personal passion. This Ologies episode promoted me to look into biomimicry as a bridge between my love for science and my business career in product development.

When I got to work, I Googled to see if there might be a biomimicry class I could take. What I found was that Arizona State University and Janine Benyus had just established a biomimicry graduate program. It was virtual, relatively affordable, and the application window was open. I applied, got accepted, and graduated. After that experience, I went on to get a master’s degree in Sustainability Leadership at University of Cambridge, and I’m working on bringing together all the aspects of my career — writing, storytelling, business, product development, and biomimicry — to build a better world for all beings. Biomimicry changed my life and career, and continues to help me evolve, grow, and thrive.

Looking back, I see now how all those threads made their way into my life through different avenues because I’ve always followed my curiosity, wonder, and joy. We don’t always know how the pieces of our lives and career will fit together. It sometimes takes longer than we’d like because the circumstances of our world need to evolve to catch up with us. Trust the timing of your life. Keep learning. Do the best you can with what you have where you are right now. What you seek is also seeking you. Eventually, you’ll find what’s meant for you and it will be worth all the effort.

creativity

Static electricity is nature’s gift that feeds us

Christa Avampato
Photo by Christoph on Unsplash

Static electricity may not top your list of things you’re grateful for this holiday season. It’s definitely on the nice list because the food we eat and enjoy wouldn’t be possible without it. Here’s a wonder of nature that changed how I see food.

Simply put: Plants grounded in soil have a negative charge. Bees have a positive charge. When a bee lands on a flower, the pollen jumps onto the bee due to the attraction of the opposite charges. (This is the same electricity transfer that happens when we walk across a carpet and then touch something that gives us a little shock.) When the bee flies away with the pollen, the flower now has a neutral charge. When a second bee arrives, that bee skips the neutrally charged flower knowing all the pollen has been taken by the first bee. This means the second bee doesn’t waste their time, energy, and resources on that flower, and moves on. Over time, that flower will build up a positive charge and pollen again. Once that happens, another bee will again be attracted to the flower and the cycle repeats. This is how plants are pollinated and serve as the base of our food system.

Imagine if we could embrace that communication that occurs between bees and flowers. How much time, energy, and resources have we wasted in relationships, jobs, or environments that we knew weren’t right for us? Rather than embracing the wisdom of a bee, we work so hard to try to make it work and it falls apart. Many times, it’s no one’s fault. It just wasn’t a match. It’s better to just move on and find the places where we can experience equal and generous reciprocity — a place where we can offer our gifts and receive the gifts of others.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this wonder of nature, envisioning how this principle could transform my life and our shared world. How might we align talents and gifts, matching needs and resources to create sustainable change? How might we build systems that appreciate, value, and utilize everyone’s contributions so that everyone has what they need? Answering these questions is the work that lies ahead for all of us, and nature is our wise and successful guide.

creativity

How the Rose of Jericho survives a drought

Christa Avampato
Rose of Jericho. Photo from https://www.bachari.gr/en/herbs/rose-of-jericho

Do you know the story of the Rose of Jericho, also known as resurrection plant and flower of stone?

When subjected to drought, the plant curls inward into a tight ball. It can survive in this state for several years, losing 95% of its water. As it dries out, it produces a type of sugar to protect its cells from damage. It looks as if it’s dead, but it’s not. It’s just conserving its energy and waiting for more favorable conditions to arise.

If the drought goes on for an extended period of time, the plant may detach its roots and physically tumble to a new location. Once it comes in contact with even a small amount of water, the sugars and accumulated salts dissolve, it re-roots in its new location if it’s traveled, and the plant revives itself, carrying on with life as if nothing has happened.

What fascinates me most is that it produces that sugar to protect itself so it can flourish when the hard times pass. Also, it doesn’t force itself to stay put during difficulty. It takes action. It detaches its roots in search of nourishment and resources elsewhere.

As we look to the days ahead, what resources do you need to take care of yourself so you can flourish in the future? Can you make them? Can you get them from where you are? If not, where can you go to get what you need? These are crucial questions to ask now so we’re able to buffer ourselves during hard times and also be ready to revive ourselves during more favorable times. More tomorrow…

creativity

Hope is a Renewable Resource

Christa Avampato
https://www.buzzsprout.com/2053590/episodes/16000698

With everything happening in the world now, hope may feel in short supply. I’ve got something that will help. I had the honor of being a guest on the Art Heals All Wounds podcast with host Pam Uzzell. 

During our conversation, I share my journey from growing up on a rural apple farm amidst adversity to becoming a climate advocate. I talk about my passion for reshaping the narratives and storytelling around sustainability and human design, and how my process of healing from cancer in the depths of the pandemic gave me perspective on healing the planet and the collective responsibility we all share for our planet’s future. This echos what the climate scientist, Dr. Michael Mann, calls “channeling dooming into doing.”

I also make the case for kindness (especially in urban settings), the urgency of transitioning to clean energy, and my plans for fostering environmental restoration, rewilding, and community engagement so we grow stronger together. Thank you, Pam, for the opportunity to talk about everything I love.

Listen to our conversation at https://www.buzzsprout.com/2053590/episodes/16000698

creativity

How the brown ocean effect changes everything we know about hurricanes

Christa Avampato
This satellite image shows Hurricane Ida bearing down on the Gulf Coast in 2021, a storm fed by the brown ocean effect. Image from NOAA.

When Helene devastated North Carolina, it had been downgraded from a hurricane to a tropical storm. (Sustained wind speed alone is what determines the type and category of a storm.) North Carolina didn’t get the eye of the storm either. That didn’t matter. What devastated North Carolina was the amount and rate of rainfall. 

The mountains of western North Carolina were thought to be as climate proof as a place could be. 350 miles from the coast. Over 2,000 feet above sea level. Helene showed us a dangerous aspect of storms that means there are no more climate havens — the brown ocean effect. 

Hurricanes become especially dangerous when they can spend extended periods of time over warm water. Conventional thinking and history have shown us that when a hurricane reaches land, the land dissipates its strength and the storm, eventually, fizzles. This is why coasts have historically been in greater danger that inland areas. The brown ocean effect changes that. 

When land is warm and saturated with water, as happened in Western North Carolina, it acts as something akin to ocean. While it doesn’t typically kick up the wind speed of a storm like Helene, it provides an excess of moisture and heat. Because the ground is saturated, the massive amount of rain can’t be absorbed. This leads to flooding and landslides. The devastation, loss of life, and high number of missing people in Western North Carolina caused by Helene is partially from the brown ocean effect. The heavy rains dumped on saturated land ravaged everything in their path from houses to infrastructure to power and communication lines. There is even footage of a casket unearthed from a cemetery and carried away by the rushing water. 

The brown ocean effect can happen anywhere there’s land. As rains become heavier and more frequent from climate change and global warming, it can take hold in many more places. Every land mass can provide ocean-like fuel for a storm. 

At the time of this writing, Hurricane Milton is barreling toward Florida. It’s a Category 5 with winds at 180 miles per hour, spinning over the hot waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Stronger than Hurricane Katrina. Even if it weakens, it still has all that water in it that it will drop when it hits land. Also, weakening in this case may be every bit as devastating as wind because it may slow down and pick up even more moisture from the Gulf. The land in Florida is already saturated, as the land in North Carolina was before Helene arrived. It’s a frightening alignment of circumstances. 

On Monday night I watched hurricane specialist John Morales get choked up on air giving the news update on Milton becoming a Category 5. These storms are no longer once-in-a-century, once-in-a-lifetime, and perhaps not even once-in-a-season. This may now be our new normal that is anything but normal.