Millions of Years

After a long day of driving in 98° weather and hiding in my room, I’m finally going outside. We got a little breeze blowing out of the southeast and the dew point is at 67°. All day long I’ve been trying to come up with something to say. But after a week of imprisonment in my room, windows blackened, AC and fan blasting; there just ain’t much to say. Sadly, for those of us “at risk” this is the world in which we live.

But as I looked out the bathroom window, I noticed the wind had picked up. So against my better angels, I found some shade and sit outside. It’s only mid-July and the oppressive heat of August has already hit with a vengeance. So while the wind is hot, it’s dry and a welcomed respite from the chilled air in a room with no light. But I got my glass of iced lemon tea with me, and the occasional sweet smell of the petunias. 
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As the cicadas start to sing, I’m reminded that living in a bubble only leads to isolation and paranoia. With the pandemic and the insane rhetoric of the day being slung around like horseshit against the barn door. It’s no wonder so many live in fear. It’s sad to see how the gift interconnectivity has been defiled to become this instant hate machine, that divides us instead of uniting us. But as I sit here finger touching the keypad, I’m reminded that there’s more to life than just “likes” and “clicks”. That just outside the door is a world that still turns and still breathes as it has for millions of years.