After years of watching half the country burn while half the country floods, I was angry and depressed. At any mention of forest fires or tropical storms, I became incandescent with anger and rage. I was angry with large corporations profiting from products and practices that accelerate climate change. I was mad at the politicians who actively disparaged climate change legislation and I lost faith in those who unsuccessfully fought for it.

What I felt most was sadness for the land and all living creatures. The issue is so large, and I had no path to fix it. As I watched the flames tear through our forests, the only thing I could do was cry.

I am not a scientist who can synthesize an alternative to fossil fuel, or an engineer with the ability to invent new energy efficient engines and motors. I am an artist and arborist, who makes work from wood and trash. I thought that none of my titles gave me the skills or knowledge to do anything significant to solve the climate crisis.

I focused on what I could do. I can be kind and help others. Simple, kind actions among people may seem insignificant but to those involved it’s immense. Almost every article about a storm was accompanied with a photo of a tree on a house or car. Then The Max Bard Emergency Storm Service took its first breath.