URBANNA — Every so often the world we live in becomes so turbulent and discouraging that one just has to take some time off to unwind.
Everything seems challenging now — the economy, rising prices of goods and services, constant political tensions, global warming, world hunger, ominous pact between China and Russia, an open border with little control over those that come into the country, fentanyl and other drug use, rising teen suicide, racial tensions, gender confusion, rising crime rates and violence in our major cities, troubles in our schools, extreme partisanship, attacks on police and military — the list of concerns seems endless.
Then, I can’t think of what to write about this week. I don’t even feel like writing. I guess you could say discouragement is setting in, losing faith in everything I once believed in, giving up hope that democracy can survive, even imagining the collapse of this great republic.
So, after my daily walk to the church and back with “Dandy,” my cocker spaniel, I settled back in the swing in my backyard, seeking some cheer.
It was that windy, warm day last week when the temperature almost hit 80 and I had shed my coat and hat and settled into a steady rock. Soon the feral cats came out of the bushes, “Blackie” and “Curly,” who reside in the backyard not to be confused with the front yard cats — “Smudge,” “Fudge,” “Wrinkle,” “Gracie,” “Tweedy” and my favorite, “Pepper,” who lives in a neighborhood storm drain.
Yes, I feed and have trapped and spayed feral cats, because that is what kind and responsible people do. Humans are called upon to help others, including wildlife, according to the best we can.
Soon “Curly,” a tiger-striped cat that has a tail that is permanently curled up and over her body strolls across the yard as if she owned the place. She spots “Dandy,” who is stretched out on the patio like an accordion. “Curly” loves “Dandy,” much to the cocker’s dismay and insists on giving him a daily lick down. “Dandy” is acutely embarrassed by this disgusting ritual, but he is too nice to chase the cat away so he looks at me hoping I will put an end to this disgrace.
Now “Blackie,” who is black, we are not overly original with our names for feral cats, jumps up on the swing to settle in my lap and enjoy the rhythmic rock. The wind chimes respond to the occasional strong gusts of wind and from my position under 70-year-old pine trees that surround our house, I imagine once again the giant trees snapping in the wind and crashing into our yard. I imagine hearing that first crack and running to the house for some protection for a Chesapeake forester once told me the most dangerous place to be on a windy day is under large trees.
I see the red and pink camellia bushes have started to wane and the pine-needled ground is strewn with dying petals. The holly trees, still loaded with red berries, are laced with pine needles, caught helplessly in their limbs and the azalea bushes are beginning to show signs of future budding. The forsythia and daffodils are spent, the lilies are just beginning to sprout and the flower pots filled with yarrow, daisies and mums have already reseeded for summer’s bloom.
I look up to the sky and see the fluff of March clouds racing by with a shy sun that peeks out occasionally and winks at me. I see pieces of blue sky. The cat in my lap purrs like a truck. Suddenly the magic happens for in the midst of such glory my fears and concerns fade away, I can actually feel my tense body relax and my mind follows suit.
In the presence of nature how silly it is to be strung up in a day of worries, especially when one can do very little to change things.
I can’t stop the constant political battles that are so depressing. But I can stop listening to the constant partisan clamor. I can’t fix race relations or stop inflation or the harmful polarization of America. But I can write about the dangers of a nation going too much in debt and the virtues of love and kindness. I can suggest tolerance in the face of prejudice and rejection. I can write of understanding amongst citizens even when it’s difficult to understand.
I can’t create world peace, stop nations from invading other countries, or turn dishonest politicians moral. But I can write of the glory of honor, self-responsibility, freedom and independence. I can warn others that there is no worse threat to the diverse American family than a government that ignores the Constitutional rights of the people.
I leave my afternoon reveries on the swing and head for my computer. Perhaps there are subjects I can write about this week after all.
© 2023
