April 20, 2021 … Tuesday
It’s been one of those days … so, I needed one of those evenings.
Today’s guilty verdict in the George Floyd death brings me no joy or happiness or even satisfaction because I believe it really won’t change anything. It won’t bring him back. It won’t heal the broken hearts of his family and friends. It won’t change the behaviors or attitudes of some people. It won’t change the abuse and killings of blacks by whites. And it won’t change how things will remain until … I don’t know what. What will it take to make real change?
Twenty-two years ago we watched in horror as high schoolers were gunned down and tumbling from classroom windows at Columbine. I drove by that school that morning, thinking what an idyllic setting for a high school … adjoining a beautiful park and lake … unaware that by the time I got home the gunmen had started their rampage. Some of those kids would be 40 now. They have all been gone at least 4 years longer than they were alive. We all thought that was a one and done. Nothing that horrendous could ever happen again. Until the next one did. And the next one. And the next one. And the 229th one. And still no bans on assault weapons. Columbine wasn’t the end of it; it was the beginning. We were aghast at Sandy Hook … because the kids were … KIDS. Practically babies. And still nothing. What will it take to make real change?
I went for a walk this evening as it was muchly needed. My heart was very heavy today. I left the house when the sky was lavender and returned when it was nearly cobalt. I left after 8 and returned before 9 … and it was still light enough to find my way. A bonus for those living here … late sunsets in spring and summer. It (almost) makes up for the 1pm twilights of winter.
I’m fine … but last week I fell. I was coming down from my office, arms full of art supplies, and as I got to the base of the stairs I leaned forward as I lifted my right leg over the doggy gate. And, instead of clearing it – my slipper got snagged on something and well … that was that! I pitched forward, legs folded behind me – knees first – and fell over the gate and smashed onto the hallway floor – which is the location of a heavy metal heat exchange grate. I hit the edge. NOT good. My left knee took the brunt of the fall … I sliced open my knee and laid on the ground assessing my injuries … what was broken? It felt like I had broken my knees … but I could move them. It felt like Tommy Two-Toes and Bugsy Malone came into my home and whacked me good with a crowbar. If someone says they’re going to break your knees if you don’t do something – do it. It hurt like hell.
Sunday’s xray showed I’m not broken – just really, really bruised. I’ve been icing/heating/elevating etc all week and I have lots of pain and what looks like a cadaver leg attached to my body. My toes are purple, my foot is baby blue. I’m bruised black and green from knee to toes. Very pretty.
In any case – I’m fine – at least bone-wise. It’ll take a while to get the swelling/bruising down/gone. My foot is so puffed it looks like biscuit dough is oozing out of my shoe. Nasty. Hopefully I didn’t do anything severe to the soft tissue – I guess time will tell. But, I’m carrying on. I’m a little slower/but I’m out there. I am finding a rhythm in my walks and miss them when I don’t take them. So, I’m slow – but walking.
I reached the end of the road tonight – no sunlight on the beach neighborhood. It looked pretty sleepy. The Cascades – off over the water – were mere silhouettes as night descended over the twilight and the last of the sunset.
I turned and walked home … slowly … and watched the sky. No eagles tonight like the other day. In the far west the sun had already set but the bands of sunset were still thick and colored … rosy coral at the bottom, then peach, then yellow. Above that was a gray-green and then light blue. I looked over the water to the island across the way and saw where the sunset ended and where night began. It was coming behind me turning colors into purples and blacks … the outlines of leaves and buildings started to blur and become shadows. Nightfall.
The streetlights turned on. Uncannily, I always seem to be under one when they do. I say a little thank you as I go.
I spotted a light twinkling in the sky and said my nightly wish on the first star. It may have been an airplane. That’s okay – I’ll wish on an airplane if I have to.
I was the only one walking tonight … lovely when that happens. I have the whole place to myself. I listened to the robins peeping their goodnights … and in the background – further up the road – were the frogs. With one last peep, the robins were done. I pictured them all tucked away in their cozy nests, red and white striped nightcaps on their heads, their round eyes closed, heads nodding before succumbing to slumber.
With the robins asleep … the frog concert was in full swing. The spring peepers and whatever else is out there were busy giving me a solo performance in all their amphibial glory. I walked past the skunk weed – still stinky – and the horse tails and rushes. The frogs got quiet when I passed the marsh but started in again once I was a good distance past. I walked past the tiny shack of a house that looks like it should be in some documentary of Appalachia … it’s darling in it’s rustic-ness. The woman who lives there is usually out smoking on the front porch. She wasn’t there but the smoke lingered and tickled my nose as I walked past and I was immediately transported to Copenhagen.
The year after Tim died the kids and I met up there for Christmas. Ted was working in Turkey at the time and he suggested that as a good place. It was a great place. We walked around the Tivoli gardens (amusement park) one bitterly cold night … and I guess, as it seemed everyone in Europe smoked (at that time), there was plenty of smoke. The pungent scent hung in the frigid air and that’s where I “go” when I smell cigarette smoke.
I continued on towards home, Copenhagen and nightfall behind me, and walked past plumeria and apple blossoms … sniffing until I thought I’d pass out … trying to fill my lungs with their sweetness. I passed the remaining bunnies – still eating – telling them to go home before an owl got them. “Nibble quickly!” I scolded. I don’t think any of them heeded my advice.
I turned onto my street as the sky was turning dark periwinkle. It was a good walk. I needed to clear my head and breathe in the sweet air to make my soul lighter. It’s been a day. “Things” are shifting and change will come … but at what price? And how long will we have to wait?