One Would Hope

The fragrant smell of petunias fills the air this early morn. Birds overhead singing their same old song, while a woodpecker knocks on ever door trying to find a home. I got my rocking chair turned with my back towards the sun. I already prepped tonight’s supper, slow cooked black-eyed peas with ham hocks. So hopefully I’m left with the rest of the day to myself.

Outside my little bubble the world can seem like a cold and heartless place. With so many different cultures with so many different rules. Some seem so offensive and repressive, while others just seem to play loose with the rules. Most surprising of them all is the way criticism and distain has flourished between tribes. While that has gone on for thousands of years, I suppose one would hope we’d evolved beyond that.

Speaking to my family on social media is like spending time listening the complaint department of an ultra-conservative news outlet. While sitting in with most of my liberal friends is like listening in on a conspiracy theory chatroom. No different, same shit.

But I’m still sitting here smelling the sweet petunias and watching sunflowers dance in the wind. It’s quiet out here, not a lot of noise. If this year plus of Covid protocol has taught me anything, it’s taught me to slowdown and appreciate life. For everyone else it seems to have taught them how to distrust, hoard toilet paper, and hate. But I suppose the paranoia was always there. Taught by a world that will smile to your face and talk about you behind your back.