Antidotes to Despair

We decided that even Heather Cox Richrd son's efforts to make sense of what just happened were a bridge too far, so I suggested that John choose something from the bookshelf. I thought his choice of Edward Abbey's Down the River  was a good one. He's part adventurer, part naturalist and definitely a fly in the ointment of organized government. Down the River  'takes us up and down rivers and across mountains and deserts  [and] is the perfect antidote to despair' says the comment on the back of the book. He's probably best known for his anti-establishment novel The Monkey Wrench Gang wherein he and his sidekick, Heyduke use sabotage to protest environmentally damaging activities in the American Southwest.

As he is floating down the river on a trip that began the day Ronald Reagan was elected (They left before the results were in and they didn't know for ten days who won...and he never mentions it) he describes the unchanging beauty and peace of the place and muses, 
we were a lucky little group. Privileged, no doubt. Loafing into the day... out here on the edge of nowhere...while around the world billions of other humans are sweating, fighting, striving...starving. As always, I try hard to feel guilty. once again I fail. We Americans cannot save the world. We Americans have our hands full in trying to save ourselves. He goes on to comment that often trying to do so is an act of 'cultural arrogance' something I have thought about a lot as an anthropologist.

This reading kickstarted us into a walk at Spring Lake where we watched a heron standing on a rock out in the lake, the last of the geese flying south, or wherever they go this time of year, and a man patiently teaching his young son how to fish. Unlike Abbey's deserted stretch of the Green River in Utah, Spring Lake had a lot of people out to enjoy what might be the last of the good weather, walking their dogs, pushing strollers or just lingering on benches enjoying the sunshine. 

There is a campground  above the lake from which we could hear the sounds of children's voices enjoying the adventure of an overnight in the woods and smell the woodsmoke from their fires. A hawk sat high in a tree observing the scene with apparent interest and a man paddled his kayak across the lake. 

Instead of the utter madness of the past weeks, there was a feeling of continuity, peace and timelessness. I'll take that.  At least until life pushes its way in again....