Gloomy

A day of fretting. Battered by a fretful wind. A sea fret. Fretting that our children's lives are so much harder than our own. Fretting over the careless shift away from an understanding that our wellbeing depends on commonwealth and common good, towards vengeful selfishness, avarice and division. Fretting that our future is bought and sold in back rooms, unobserved, while the ice sheets melt and the forests burn. Fretting that madmen hold the power to destroy everything, for ever

And yet, it seems to me, our children's generation have a firmer grip on the world, its deceipts, its bankruptcy, its need for change and vision and optimism and joy, than we ever had. They have no illusions. While we fret, they will hold firm

Staring into the day's gloom, I saw colours and shifting light, subtlety and soothing calm. I don't know if this picture captures it, but it will remind me of what I felt. Something in the opaque air said "don't fret"