The news–both personal and political–got the better of me today. This damned pipeline that is wending its toxic way through Appalachia feels like a boa constrictor around my heart. The water in Flint (and elsewhere) is undrinkable and has been for so long–because our Electeds have neither the will nor the heart to address it. We are watching the EPA (which wasn’t but so helpful to begin with) being dismantled so that more extraction can happen, more profits made. And Syria…Syria…
At the Appalachian Studies Association conference, I had a shocking road-to-Damascus moment when I realized there are academics outside our region who study it, study us. It gave me a level of The Creeps that surprised me.
Another trophy house is being built across the street and the last trees have been cut down. The daffodils I’ve been planning to relocate were bulldozed along with everything else.
I have sick friends and sad friends, and friends going through financial problems and mate problems and emotional problems.
So many things are beautiful and powerful, and I am so grateful for that. But, dang. The day started out full of grief and I only had one option–go to the garden.
I planted a long row of irises. I raked up some of last fall’s leaves. I sat on the porch with a friend and thought about the big garden I want to plant in the back yard.
I went to ground. It saved me, as it always does.
Grateful.
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