Birds and ...

I spent a delightful morning with my dear friend, J, talking over art and life. We’ve painted, gardened and traveled together. Our conversation turned toward this strange time and our struggle to process jarring… disparate elements....
There are the birds and their success in nesting this particular Spring, the joy they brought. Quiet days of spring rain while Covid stalked the human community. The bird song, their delight in nesting with the profusion of bugs, water, gardens, trees and flight…The delight at hearing their sounds in my yard. That world.
Then another world….like this truth: After visiting with my friend I worked in my garden.
I went to bed early.  
2:30 A.M. Insomnia. I got up, brewed a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table writing in my journal. My windows open, the dark quiet backyard, sweet night fragrances.
Then I heard the sounds. The ticking buzz of  helicopters, some distance away and I remembered the protests taking place downtown... 25 blocks from my home, across the Willamette River.
The Justice Center. The protesters. The police. The chaos, the fury, the separation, the anger, the smoke, tear gas, flash bangs, rubber bullets. Thousands of protestors...My friends, our children, the Mothers and Fathers, antifascists, veterans, students…many others... The Injustice. The violence, the shock of it. Outrage over the death of George Floyd and so many others. Black Lives Matter. Hundreds of years of systemic racism. Anger, Unrest, Covid, Despair, Confusion... and
 Me...sitting in my kitchen, the yard quiet, the street quiet...night sounds.
Heaven and Hell…
Juxtapositions and disbelief….