Not long ago I dreamed of a party in an opulent and beautiful home. Accidently, I dropped something hot, I can’t remember what it was (a hot lightbulb, a cigarette butt?) in a crevasse in the house. I tried to get the item out, but I was unable to.

Suddenly, small tendrils of smoke began appear from the crevasse. I tried to put the fire out, but I couldn’t. I became alarmed, and tried to get help. The curtains caught fire, and then the roof. Soon the entire house was ablaze. Some of the people at the party tried to help me put it out, but it was too late.

I ran outside and tried to warn the others. They were laughing and drinking cocktails, lounging on inflatable rafts in the pool. They were entirely unconcerned about the fire. Perhaps they felt sheltered by the luxury of the water in the pool. Their indifference left me feeling impotent and full of despair.

When I awoke, I immediately recognized the allegorical nature of my dream. The house was the Earth, our home, our sanctuary. The fire was the collapse of its biological systems, and, of course, a direct reference to global warming.

The people who tried to help me put out the fire represented the small group of concerned scientists, environmentalists, and community activists committed to saving our fragile biosphere. And the loungers in the pool…they were everybody else, and they were unmistakably American.