Elusive

I talked on the telephone last night with my two closest friends, who live 50 miles north of here.  They are active and passionate environmentalists, so this turn of political events is particularly devastating for them.  We consoled each other and decided we could not keep on talking about the details and the hope that has been lost.  We will move past our grief and regroup.  I felt such joy that, in their own pain, they reached out to me.

Today was a beautiful Fall day, with temperatures in the mid-sixties and sunny skies, a lovely day to be alive.  I spent the afternoon with my sister, Endless Weekend, and we agreed not to speak about you-know-what.  Instead we talked about lots of thing, serious and inconsequential, over a cup of tea, and went out into her garden to take photos.  There were crows and squirrels out there, but not one was willing to stay put where it was so that I could take a decent shot.  So this photo leaves much to be desired, but it does have two crows in it.  Can you spot the second one?  The light started fading so early that soon we went back inside.  A lovely, relaxing time on a day when I hadn't expecting that.

Yesterday's blip included a poem without attribution.  It is the last verse of "Dover Beach," by Matthew Arnold, written in 1867.  I left it out because I wanted just the words to be there on the page.

I hope all of you are starting to move out of the worst of the grief stage, and, like me, pulling yourself together for the next fight.