As the summer changes to fall, there’s great fishing on the Yakima River.

“Changing things” could either mean things are changing and we have no control over it; or, we are changing things purposely and in control of those changes; or, is it that we are the changing things? Any which way, change is constant — an ironic statement if ever there was one.

It seems to me, more often than not lately, things change and we wonder how did we get here? Just yesterday, because of some fluky software problem I was having, a well-meaning techie type recommended I upgrade my computer operating system, and we all know what that means — yikes! Everything I’ve been accustomed to using has either disappeared, is in a different place, has a different icon, or is completely inexplicably fouled up.

I think it’s clear humans don’t adapt well to change — except maybe in a long-term evolutionary sense. So back to the inevitable: changing things.

Things that are shrinking

What got me thinking about this was something I noticed in my travels of the last two weeks. Driving along I spied a young woman who had draped a towel on her car’s sun visor that she’d flipped over to shade her driver’s side window. Then it struck me. Yes! Those darn car manufacturers have been shrinking our sun visors for years, until — what the heck — they are well nigh useless; they are about the size of a Triscuit. This woman had the right idea: a jury-rigged solution that gave her a little more respite from the sun.

Then a whole ream of complaints flew into my head. For instance, I’ve taken to buying only old pre-used jeans. Why? — because, goldarn, current women’s jeans have no decent pockets. You can barely get your fisted hand in them, let alone have any useful space to carry a handkerchief, lip balm, or a pocket knife. I want to be able to stuff my hand down into a pocket to my wrist at least. Gimme a break…not all women want to have to carry around a purse at all times.

And we all know that tricky thing food manufacturers are undertaking, trying to fool us with incrementally smaller and smaller jars of mayo, jellies, hair gel, and other products. Tip your jar or container over and you’ll find a concave place in the bottom. You don’t notice that when you grab it off the grocery shelf, but “shrinkflation” is attacking our groceries in a way producers think we won’t notice.

Another trend I’m beginning to read more about is the fact that now after years of women wanting breast implants, many of us are opting for breast reduction surgeries. Yes, it’s lovely having a couple beautiful and luscious breasts, but you get to a certain age and you think — wait a minute, who am I pleasing? It’s hard to stay active jogging, running, or pickle balling with enormous flopping breasts getting in the way. (I’ve got a sports bra that does the trick.)

Things that are getting bigger

Well, we don’t have to look too far into the past to notice that some things are expanding. Despite Florida governor, Ron DeSantis, still disbelieving in climate change, our hurricanes, tornadoes, flooding, melting, and other weather events are growing faster and bigger than anyone (except weather experts) predicted years ago. Warmer ocean waters mean that hurricanes can pick up speed and bigger volumes of moisture in startling ways. Then they travel farther over land than previously seen dumping huge torrents.

I just got back from a business trip to Tucson where — and this is October mind you — the temps were still over 100! Heat blasts are growing in length and intensity all over the globe. Dry spells are getting longer, and this is only the beginning. We’re heading for larger and longer adverse weather conditions unless our laggard politicians get with the climate change program. Unfortunately it’s more or less folks in the GOP territories — just the realm of naysaying politicos — who seem to be suffering the most.

Things that are disappearing

Have you noticed how many of our native trees are looking sickly? Scarce water resources are curtailing the growth and endangering so many of our big trees. Western red cedars, among others, are suffering from climate-induced drought. Often the trees start to look frail long before they actually die. And when they’re sick they are more susceptible to boring and destructive insects. Plus conditions for fire events are accelerating as water sources disappear taking whole swaths of forest with them.

One of my hydrangeas is still trying to recover from that heat spell we had two years ago. I still don’t know if it will make it. And my sis in Yakima has what once was a spectacular dogwood that she’s trying to nurse back to health. Her neighbor arborist thinks she’ll know whether it will make it this next spring. She’s been watering it profusely, but it may be too late.

Firs are also in danger. Researchers are calling it a “Firmageddon.” It’s the largest die-off ever recorded in Washington and Oregon. Over 1.23 million acres of trees are affected by heat domes, drought, insects, and fungal diseases. (Fir die-offs were recorded as far back as 1952, but 2023 dwarfs all previous records.)

It’s not just the physical world that’s changing. Might I also add that I see less and less kindness being practiced; or even the kind of traditional civility that some of us elders are used to. Does anyone write thank you notes anymore? Or, for that matter, when was the last time you sat down and actually wrote a letter to anyone by hand? For most kids these days, communication requires a cell phone.

Things that are appearing

There also seems to be kinks and cracks appearing in our democratic processes. I just spoke to a friend who was knocking on doors in Sedona, Arizona. He said lots of GenZ-ers have thrown in the towel. “My vote won’t make a difference. Both parties are useless…” is what he heard over and over again. So they said, “I won’t be voting.” An apathy and a disillusionment with government in general seems to be rearing its head.

I’m a proud voter and an adamant supporter of our democratic experiment. There may be a few things I’m impatient with — Supreme Court justices who are flaunting their refusal to comply with a standard code of ethics; an Electoral College that favors a handful of voters in small swing states; impropriety in speech and demeanor on the floor of the House of Representatives. Still, our democratic fumbles are so much more palatable and admirable than the missteps being made in so many other countries.

I love the sprouting up of political signs. (I implore those of you who feel it necessary to take mine and other signs down to consider the importance of free speech, a bedrock of democracy.) We should be able to show our personal choices without fear.

There is a lot of change in the air in this ever-shifting election year. My advice: ignore the polls and vote. Be an agent for the changes you want.

‘The Anthropology of Trash’

And, hey, kudos to Jill Mulholland for “The Anthropology of Trash” her current trash exhibition. Talk about changing and transforming things: she and John Mueller are featured in the Coastal Oregon Artist Residency project now showing through Saturday at 1312 Commercial Street in Astoria, Oregon.

Jill is known for her incredible manipulation of light, and many of her pieces hang in the windows spreading ever-changing patterns of color and design on the walls and floor. The show runs daily from 11 a.m. until 3 p.m., with an artist talk on Oct. 19 at 3 p.m. This exhibit — the seventh annual — illustrates what inspired artists can do with recycled, repurposed, and discarded materials. Check it out!