Suddenly

Feels almost overnight. One day sad bare trees, and now, budding all around. Just, it seems, in a few days. Trees darkest pink, pure white, and a whole lot of green, little sprouts.

Sunrise around 6:00 a.m., sunset about 7:30 p.m. I just couldn’t quite manage the parka season outside, but now perfect evening walks, breezy, breathe-y. Fabulous YMCA with two-storied-wall-windowed lap pool, this, yes, this, actual, week. (And the YMCA dry sauna. Genius. This week.)

Observing again. So simple, so happy to be noticing.

Brick driveways probably 150 years old, intricate wrought iron fencing, newer, wrap-around big-house front porches, wicker out now. Little black cat crossing street while cars wait. Kids’ pawprints embedded in the sidewalk. Tall planters lining the sidewalk wall at the True Value. And the mulch there has come in. While walking this afternoon talked a bit with the guy filling those big pots, lots and lots and lots of mulch. He told me the plant lady at the True Value had bought so many, there’s no room in the store. So I’ll go back and buy some for my windowsill, along with the cypress tree, already have, for my Father’s memory. Just look.

(Soon the courthouse block plantings will be in place, cared for early mornings, all summer long, by nice ladies in a pick up with travelling watering hose.) Just look.

No bluebonnets here, but fresh-mowed lawns (oh that smell) carpeted of violets. Just look.

My next-doors, who had been collecting pallets, and sawing and hammering all winter, got out their standing garden (from which I swore to steal tomatoes, except neighbor told me he’d give them to me, no charge), today.

A standing garden, built by hand, with repurposed frame, by friendly folk right here.

My kind neice last December brought me tamales and salsa from Chicago, not Texas, and now, since I froze some, will have Illinois Christmas in July.

My kind sister brought me more PayDay bars and I was last night looking up PayDay bar cookies and PayDay bar bread. They exist, 2023.

Way pivot. In midst of my comfort, can’t not observe troubles of others.

Reading Bernie’s latest, fired up. How can there still be this weight of economic injustice, all cylinders, still. It could be different.

The wanton gun violence. Kids, teachers, even custodians, in elementary schools, people just going to shop or to their productive jobs, a sweet sixteen party, a talented exemplary bass clarinetist, high school cheerleaders, beautiful innocent young woman on a rural road, just this effing week. Just this effing week.

Even a few months ago in my own experience, darn, doves…doves…shot down in Texas by a creepy person I briefly met there who bought a hunting rifle from Germany and came to pick it up in Texas, USA…to shoot doves. Lucky me, safely got the heck out of that house.

And the suicides. Guns.

What is the common factor. Guns.

I hate guns. Some media feeds bat-shite paranoia, some people (who might do better with their bulgy bellies on a treadmill) call it “sport.” Or the “mental health” excuse. Why does the richest country in world history create such distress, and why does it not offer mental health treatment, all health care, as a human right, so humans do not kill. Stop this. It could be different.

And old (and some younger) creepy white men now policing women’s bodies. For what purpose…fear of losing control. Dudes, that train has left the station.

Proud of my blue state Senator Durbin for making it known to John Roberts that a few people under his watch have some answering to do. Go figure. The women Supremes extended the stay. Two old creepy dudes dissented. Go figure. Lot more on that, later.

It will be different

Pivot back to gratitude platitude.

Cucumber salad and corn salad and cantaloupe here today (and I do know very full well whose efforts made those possible for me…John Oliver, always spot on, last week farm workers, bent over in fields so spoiled me gets produce out-of-season all-year-round).

For fortunate me, working summer, with some summer perks, on the way.

It won’t be long before the aquatic center here opens and there is nothing quite so joyful beginning a day as lap swimming outside in the summer as the sun rises.

And soon I’ll be back on my bike.

So if I am lucky, and I know I am, just do not waste it. Appreciate what I have. And what I can, as Michelle Obama writes, “the power of small,” anything, in my modest power, to make it easier for more people to be lucky.