In traditional Chinese medicine, winter is ruled by the element water, which "dances in the hundred valleys" and "nourishes the ten thousand things". While the cold slows outer activity and movement, water's subtle power quickens new life in the hidden depths. Thus, winter and water are the foundation of fruitfulness and abundance.

With the relentless downpour we've been having in Victoria, it is comforting to think that the dreary wetness is accomplishing some good in the Grand Scheme of Things (apart from making humans want to snuggle down under the covers: not a bad climate change strategy). 

Wet weather makes my joints ache, so I've been reading about acupuncture. And I am struck by how modern the Chinese view of nature really is.

What makes the whole show go around, in this view, is the dynamic tension between fire and water, heat and cold, which generates the movement of the seasons and the cycles of plant growth.

This dynamic is a startlingly accurate description of the ocean's breathing cycle, the Great Ocean Conveyor, as viewed by contemporary ocean science. The master pattern of ocean circulation around the globe, and key to its great fertility, is driven by the difference in temperature betwen the poles and the equator. The greater the gradient, the more lively the circling.

So what happens when the poles warm up? The ocean's breathing gets sluggish and shallow. Off BC's coast, deep water now contains 25 percent less oxygen - while the surface oxygen-rich zone has thinned. In fact, the whole global ocean is in trouble - as Alanna Mitchell's book, SeaSick, so eloquently describes.

Unfortunately, we cannot cure global warming with acupuncture. But I wish we could at least remember the key principle of western medicine, enshrined in the physician's oath: "First, I shall do no harm." Then the patient would at least have a chance to heal itself.