SPRING OF WONDERS
I am hesitant these days to post musings about beauty in a time of war, brutality and genocide. Gaza, The Congo, Ukraine and on and on. I don’t give a shit who started ANY of it. I don’t wish anyone terrorized, taken hostage or killed. I want it to end. Now. I want humans fighting only to hold on to humanity, flawed as it is.
At my most troubled, not that it compares, beauty is almost more noticeable. It’s almost neon. Have you ever noticed this? I am thinking of people in their most extreme circumstances and wondering how epic or mundane or insulting beauty must seem. My heart breaks for every possibility.
Today here in Vermont the beauty is almost unbearable. The clouds and sky change the scene to something more grand every half hour. The greens are as saturated as they get. A family of turkeys stroll and browse and the waving grass. They have a way of seeming much larger the further you are away from them. I often mistake them for deer at first glance out past the horse field. My eyes play tricks like the turkeys mean for it to be this way. They are good at bluffing.
The frogs are singing and the lilac flowers are drooping in fat clusters, pulling their sweet fragrance through my hair at the hint of any breeze. Blue birds, fluorescent yellow birds and blackbirds with their crimson epaulets flash and brag. A tiny male hummingbird has taken control of my porch, or rather his porch. I’m just a guest. The days are warm and the nights are still cool. Last night I fell asleep to torrential rain. I want to remember all of this; the colors, the smells, the antics of the territorial birds, the sounds of the rain on the metal roof. This is the beauty I always longed for. The beauty that surrounds a home, or what I think of as a home.
But this is all borrowed time. This place I live was founded in genocide, a fact I think of and honor every day. And by “honor” I mean calling it what it is and not forgetting, not forgetting the human, animal and ecological dead who died because of greed and “Manifest Destiny.” Nothing is mine, as the hummingbird is kind enough to remind me. I let go. It is a relief not to hold on so tight.
The beauty however, lingers. This could be the last time I feel it. I could be anyone, anywhere. The horror doesn’t care where it goes. Maybe the last thing I will remember when it is my time is the smell of milkweed being heated by the late summer sun blowing down from the hill. That’s all you can really hope for. Love your people and this beautiful, living land as hard as you can while letting go of what we are supposed to want, if you can.
Peace and love and every single uncool thing that conjures to every single one of you. XO
What is the strangest or hardest time you have been captivated by beauty, in whatever form it took?
You brought the tears this morning, Neko. But beauty usually does. The first thing that came to my mind for strange beauty was a moment about a month after my wife died. Before I lost her she’d been prompting me for months to call the gutter cleaners because all of the fall’s leaves were still piled on the roof. I kept putting it off because I hate making phone calls. I finally made myself make the call because it seemed like one thing I could handle without asking my friends for help. I made the call and scheduled appointment and then walked outside to breathe in the fresh air. As soon as I stepped onto the back deck a huge gust of wind came and blew an insane amount of leaves onto my head. It was a ridiculous amount of leaves. I felt like I was in a movie but better because I felt her laughing presence. Browned and fallen white oak leaves aren’t typically what would catch my eyes as beautiful but they were on that day.
I actually think in this time of war, violence, political insanity, entirely too much hate in the world - the need for musings about beauty, and love, and joy, and community, are needed more than ever. So thank you. The human race would be so much better of we all spent some time appreciating all the beauty that surrounds us. For me, every spring, when the color comes flooding back into the world is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. We all feel the pain so much, so easily - we give time to the pain. It is a essential for humanity that we give time, energy, credence to the good in life as well.