Circle The Wagons

We’re only a week into the new year and already we can see that the old year is not done with us, yet. 2020 will just not lay down and die. It will not go out peacefully. From what we witnessed yesterday we should now realize that time does not mean a thing when it comes to the despicable acts of people. Specific people, and people in general. A new year? Not hardly. Not yet.

There are very few individuals that can be held responsible for what transpired in our nation’s capital yesterday, but it puts a bad light on all of us in the eyes of the world. How many years, decades, generations will it take to recover what has been lost? I don’t think that is possible in my lifetime. What few years I have left are only a drop in the amount of water that is going to have to pass under the bridge for life to begin to return to what we once had. If it can.

I’ve always heard that one bad apple can spoil the barrel. If yesterday wasn’t proof, then I don’t know what is. When I was reading the headlines of the papers from countries around the world last night I was appalled. Their words said it all. And with such clarity. People, we have lost our standing among the nations of the world. The slide began a few years ago, but it has picked up steam in the past couple, and dropped over the precipice into the abyss of darkness yesterday.

It is now time that we circle the wagons and hope that the calvary arrives before it’s too late. I am not in position to do that on a national level, but I can sure do it on a local level. I think we all can. I would like to persuade everyone else to concentrate taking care of their own, their family, their friends. Pull them near. Hold them close. Appreciate them for who they are. Know that, as a small group, you will not be able to influence the large world, but you can sure influence and take care your small world.

If everyone were to accomplish that, then maybe, just maybe, our collective whole can do that which just one of us cannot. I never thought I’d live through what I saw yesterday. I hope I make it long enough to witness the recovery, or at least the beginning of a recovery.

Good night, Mrs. Jackson, wherever you are.

Nostradamus I Am Not, But I Try

Any sane person would wait until after tonight’s debate to do what I am about to do. No one ever said that I am sane, though. I don’t think I’m insane. Others might disagree with that assessment, but I don’t see how they can do that. I suppose I could be borderline insane. Is there such a thing? Does an insane person really understand what sanity is? Do they realize they may not have what it takes to be classified as a member of the sane society? I wonder.

Anyway, I thought I might try my hand at prognostication. I’ve made predictions in the past. Some of them have proven correct, however the majority of them have been way off the mark. I’m still going to try, though.

Here are my predictions:

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Whispers of Change

This morning a golden leaf brushed my cheek as it passed by on its journey to the afterlife. I had not been thinking about the short winter days ahead, but the whispered voice of the fluttering leaf caused me to consider what tomorrow might bring.

The days of summer are behind us, the reds and golds of the leaves is testament that a change is coming. Our nights are cooler, our days less warm. The sun now spends fewer moments brightening our lives each day, running to hide from the darkness that chases it around the world. Day after day it runs, never tiring from the constant battle with the night.

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