I’m looking out my window right now, the corner window in our living room that has my favorite view of the trees in our neighbors’ yards, for several houses up the street. It’s a picture postcard October day. The sky is as blue as it gets without even a hint of a cloud and leaves are falling and the breeze is blowing through the branches and the gold and red and orange and green leaves are rustling. Someone is revving an engine somewhere; close enough that I can hear it but far enough away that the sound is faint. Otherwise, it’s very quiet.
Two of the trees I’m looking at - an evergreen of some sort and a deciduous tree right next to it that looks like an oak - are extraordinarily tall. Sometimes they scare me. A high wind could take any of these big trees down, and someone’s house would go with them. It’s happened before. But mostly, I just love looking outside and seeing the sun stream through tree branches 30 feet high. This neighborhood is almost 60 years old, and those trees have been here since the beginning. Those trees are almost as old as me.
*****
I sometimes wonder how I used to do all of the things I used to do. I worked part-time when my kids were young, but I returned to full-time work when my oldest started high school 10 years ago. I worked in the office every day, and then I came home and made dinner. I had several volunteer jobs. I went to every swim meet and every baseball game and every band concert. I was still in school during my part-time years, and my husband worked all the time, at odd hours. If I wasn’t working, I was cooking something or cleaning something or driving kids somewhere or teaching catechism or officiating at a swim meet. I was relentless. I was a force of nature.
At 60, I’m still working full-time, and I expect to continue working for at least five more years. I HOPE to continue working for at least five more years. I like working in general, and I love my job. Working is easy. Working is a blessing.
But nature and I have a different relationship now. I'm not so much of a force of it anymore.
*****
It's Saturday afternoon now and we're driving home from the Eastern Shore after a swim meet at Salisbury. I'm riding shotgun now but I was the driver this morning and the Bay Bridge crossing was somewhat less terrifying than usual. It was clear but a bit overcast so there was no sun glare. It wasn't raining. It wasn't windy. Both spans were open so I didn't have to face oncoming cars. And traffic was light so I didn't have to worry about getting stuck at the top of the bridge. It was fine.
Does that seem like a lot of fuss over a bridge? Maybe, but that bridge is four miles long and 200 feet high at its highest point, and everyone in Maryland is scared of it. There's actually a drive-over service for people who can't bring themselves to drive over the bridge themselves, and they do pretty good business. That bridge is no joke.
*****
Leaves changing color and college swim meets and hockey - we went to our first Capitals game of the season, so it really is peak autumn. The Irish Channel on Friday night was a whole Capitals fan vibe, but it was a family of Wild fans getting up to leave who waved us over to grab their table. “We saw you come in before the other people waiting so we wanted to make sure you got a table,” the man said. We thanked him and he said "Hey, Minnesota nice, right?”
"If you were Penguins fans,” I said, "you'd have looked us right in the eye as you ordered another round.”
“And if we were Rangers fans," he said, “we'd have stayed here all night just to spite you." We all laughed.
My older son was with us, and there was another older couple with a young woman sitting in the booth directly across from us. The man and the older woman appeared to be in their 70s, and the young woman could have been any age from 24 or so (my son’s age) to late 30s. Everyone that age looks very young to me. She could have been the couple’s daughter or their granddaughter, depending on their age and hers, but I guessed that she was their daughter. The three of them had the self-contained family intimacy of late-in-life parents with their treasured only child. They weren’t dressed for the game, and the mother spoke with an Irish accent so I imagined that they were just out for a nice dinner and a few pints and some live music. They seemed lovely.
Really, almost everyone in the Channel seemed lovely. Most of the patrons were Capitals fans, with a few Minnesota supporters in their green jerseys. I’m glad our jerseys aren’t green. The non-hockey crowd were dressed for a casual October Friday pub night - colorful sweaters and t-shirts and hoodies and well-worn jeans. Almost no one was in work clothes - so many people are furloughed right now that the Friday night happy hour felt much more like Saturday afternoon. It was much quieter in general than usual, and the Metro trains were practically empty, but the people who were out and about were in good spirits. And we didn’t see a single Guard member.
*****
I missed the protest on Saturday, but I got to honk my horn and wave at the protestors in Salisbury. It had not occurred to me that there would be protestors in Salisbury, the largest town on the very red Eastern Shore, but I was delighted to see it. There were hundreds of people holding signs and wearing crazy costumes and funny hats and t-shirts, all smiling and friendly as they peacefully exercised their First Amendment rights. And then the next day, the President of the United States shared an AI-generated video of himself wearing a crown and piloting a bomber with “King Trump” painted on the side, dropping tons of excrement on protestors.
And I’m not even mad. I can’t muster even the slightest outrage over that gross video. Honestly, it was one of the most honest and forthright statements that has ever come out of this administration. Donald Trump hates America and most of its people, and if he could fly over American cities dropping actual shit bombs, he would absolutely do it. The White House social media team is just telling it like it is. They’re keeping it real.
*****
October just started, and it’s already almost over. It’s time to figure out our Thanksgiving plans. It’s time to do my Christmas shopping. Everything seems up in the air right now, though. Everything is in flux, and I can’t decide what to do from one minute to the next.
Still, it’s strangely comforting to know that the world is a mess because it always has been and it always will be. And it’s also beautiful and it always has been and always will be. It’s a week later now, and I’m back at my window. It’s another picture postcard October day. The trees are a little less green and a little more gold and orange and red than they were a week ago. They’re still rustling in the breeze and the sky is still clear blue. There’s not a shit bomb in sight, at least not now.
No comments:
Post a Comment