The temperature hit a staggering 44 degrees Celsius, or 111 degrees Fahrenheit, a level that transformed the sky into a pale blue film and obscured the mountain tops in a haze of ozone.

While I’ve never set foot in Las Vegas or Dubai, I found that the hottest place I have ever experienced was right at home in British Columbia. To truly understand this heat, I ventured into my garden during the afternoon, where the yellow grass crunched beneath me. The world around was eerily quiet; my neighbors were shuttered inside, and only crows remained, fanning their wings to cool off.

As sweat broke out on my skin, I felt the sun's intensity as if it were a heavy weight pressing down on me. In that moment, I recalled a different kind of heat—a lethal one I once employed to combat bedbugs.

Bedbugs are a nuisance, both literally and figuratively. These pests thrive on human blood and, while they don't transmit diseases like mosquitoes, their presence can lead to sleepless nights and severe mental distress. Once on the brink of extinction in the 1950s, bedbugs have made a resurgence, fueling a thriving pest control industry.

In my pest control business, bedbug treatments accounted for a significant portion of my income. These pests have infiltrated nearly every city worldwide, and if you’ve never encountered them, consider yourself fortunate.

The near-eradication of bedbugs in the past was largely due to the use of potent chemicals, a method now deemed unsafe. With their comeback, we turned to heat as a weapon. Raising the temperature to 45 degrees Celsius can effectively eliminate bedbugs and their resilient eggs.

As I stood sweating in my yard, I reflected on the countless bedrooms I had heated to rid homes of these pests. I never expected my own residence would receive a heat treatment courtesy of an unforgiving sun.

The prevailing view is that we’ve brought this upon ourselves. As climate change intensifies, we can anticipate more extreme weather. On the same day I felt the heat, Lytton, just 174 kilometers away, recorded an unprecedented 49 degrees Celsius and subsequently suffered a devastating fire.

While hotter regions exist, they are typically not found in temperate rainforests. In British Columbia, a province unaccustomed to such conditions, the heat warped sidewalks, left the homeless vulnerable, and turned vast forests into tinderboxes. Fires erupted across the province, consuming everything in their path.

We are all aware of this reality. We’ve heard warnings from politicians and environmentalists alike. Yet, we often deflect responsibility, insisting that others must change their habits while we continue to indulge in convenience.

You may feel powerless as an individual, but perhaps this extraordinary heat wave will serve as a wake-up call to the realities of a damaged climate. However, I fear that as seasons change, memories of this heat will fade, and we will revert to our old ways.

As we raise the temperature on ourselves, we flirt with conditions hostile to life. Forgetfulness seems to be our greatest strength, allowing us to ignore the consequences of our actions.

Years ago, at a pest control conference, a British expert discussed innovative strategies against bedbugs. During the Q&A, someone suggested that bedbugs might be the humans of the insect realm. The expert chuckled and reversed the idea, suggesting that we are akin to bedbugs within the mammalian kingdom.

Since our origins in Africa, we have proliferated globally, outcompeting other species. Although we lack the natural defenses of many animals, our strength lies in our numbers. This same principle allows bedbugs, though vulnerable to predators, to thrive by hitching rides with us.

They find comfort in our homes and thrive in our preferred climate. They can adapt to various living conditions, much like humans. In this way, both species demonstrate a capacity for survival amidst adversity.

As we inadvertently wipe out other species, we remain unable to rid ourselves of the pests that accompany us. Bedbugs, relentless and resilient, continue to thrive.

A friend, the poet Rodney DeCroo, once remarked, “We are the fucking bedbugs.” He may not have been an expert, but his words ring true.

As we crank up the heat, we push the boundaries of what our bodies and environments can endure. It feels as though we are trying to eliminate ourselves while creating more intricate challenges.

In the sweltering heat, the mountains became hazy silhouettes, with Mount Cheam losing its defined peak. Legends tell of an angel shaped by snow, watching over the valley. If she were ever to vanish completely, catastrophe would ensue.

To date, that has not happened, but this summer has been unlike any other. Wildfires rage, and as we suffer through the heat, the protective angel appears to weaken.

We are living in unprecedented times, becoming experts in navigating the unknown. If we continue to raise the temperature, we risk losing all our angels.

Thank you for reading.

© Ryan Frawley 2021.

All proceeds from this article will be donated to Doctors Without Borders/Medecins Sans Frontiers.

If you wish to explore more of my writings, consider checking out the following article: - Forget This Screen — The Real World Is Out There

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