Well. Summer is here. Almost. Okay, so it’s Maine, and 80 F feels hot to me and others used to shoveling snow. And someone like me is also used to wearing a knit hat. Now my exposed, balding head (with early-Fraiser hair, kind of) can’t take the direct sun without risk of sunburn.
Likewise, this very tree has gone a bit… “bald.” Or maybe it’s just me. …Okay, so this tree is not the one at the top, so it very well was just me lol. The cherry blossom trees have all gone green too.
The sun can be intense at times, but— like rain— the plants and overall life on Earth need the sun. And the COVID mask will only prevent sunburn on the lower parts of my face.
At night, people can appreciate the cooler side… and hopefully not sleep in sweat. But it is also the season where kids can be heard in the streets on skateboards… even at midnight.
It’s past mud season… and so it appears to be a season of road construction.
That sidewalk damaged by a fallen tree last year (that also took down a power line our house depended on) was fixed earlier this month.
By late May, the year took another turn.
Times became more turbulent. More and more people acted like the virus “isn’t a problem anymore”. Then video came out of police homicide, and protests erupted. Since last post, there have been a riot or two but mostly peaceful demonstrations in the US and worldwide. Imagine trying to find a balance between social distancing and protesting in crowds.
It requires large numbers of people to get any attention with major news networks beholden to shareholders. Demonstrators have been heard chanting “I can’t breathe”, one of the final words spoken by George Floyd before he died of positional asphyxia… or to be more specific, a knee on his neck and a foot on his back. 8 minutes and 46 seconds, age 46. Suffocation… a way of looking at racism in America.
Most of the above chalk and paint has since vanished from rain. But yeah, it is still remarkable to have people here who recognize how people are waking up a thousand-plus miles away, and aren’t taking it anymore.
The Age of Aquarius… no more “houses of secrets”; the dirty laundry is out in the open now. We are reminded how real life ain’t a movie or TV show, nor an idyllic painting, obviously. In a movie, things can be lighter; if a character is drunk off his ass, just woken up after fallen asleep in a drive-thru, scared and running off with a Taser harmlessly tasing the air, there would be laughs and people rolling their eyes. But in real life, a situation like that can and has gone horribly wrong; if police deem that person a “threat to others”, if mentally ill or Black… weapons are drawn, to say the least. Rayshard Brooks was only 27 years old.
People died. That’s the sobering fact of history. These paintings are idealized versions of a scene. And there’s no glory in war, only losers. Yet some are still trying to start “race wars.” And the bias shows — how police departments have all but ignored several lynchings in California. For what? Not wanting to draw attention? Justice isn’t about vanity or appeasing political groups or white supremacists. Maybe they got the impression that the riots are everywhere or easy. Or maybe the federal government has corrupted them so much that they’re just not involved in their communities anymore. “Ooh, grenade launchers and tanks!”
Malcolm Harsch was 38 years young. Robert Fuller, only 24.
It’s all a mess. And sure, life has always been messy. But that’s not an excuse to let dishonesty slide or pile on more mud. There are sick humans who wage wars of the mind, with propaganda that encourages not only ideological or partisan divisions but virtue signaling, as if George Washington would be proud of shouters on social media who don’t help in real life or adult children who can’t even wear a face mask to slow a pandemic, and complain that they can’t take their kid to Disneyland let alone recognize the actual fight for rights of citizens. These days, the people who say common sense is lacking in the US need to look in the mirror.
But I digress.
We are not above nature. Sometimes we lose perspective. Sometimes we allow entertainment to kill brain cells.
Of course fighting and deception are both part of nature. But in the animal kingdom, it’s mostly for food or mating; they don’t go out of their way to make propaganda for some kind of profit.
But I digress again.
Wilder flowers blooming.
So much green now. This was at Fore River Sanctuary.
The sanctuary resides near train tracks.
It features a few boardwalks and small waterfalls.
I never saw this place before. It was good to get out, and explore the trail. Even if the experience was short. Even if my camera doesn’t have the dynamic range to capture the scene well. Just being there in real life, no complaints… living — that’s what made it matter.
Living more than sharing contributes to why I haven’t been posting much since 2019. And being distracted by the noise of the house. And being distracted on twitter. And YouTube.
You know what, there’s no excuse. My brain has atrophied with my decline in writing. Few may care about what I share or how I share it, but it’s worth it to sort out what’s going on for me, right?
And for what the future holds: we’ll see.
That’s it for now. I need rest. Until next time…