Unto Peace

Owing to morning temperatures in the low-twenties, the birdbaths have seized up again. The air, meanwhile, is very dry, the streets are dry, and every bush and twig. Saturday afternoon, I was able to climb onto the roof with our electric blower and hundred-foot extension cord, and blow off all of the debris left behind by the fall storms. The fir needles were deep; the cones were plentiful; and there were enough small branches to make several decorative wreaths. With conditions so dry, the gutters cleaned out nicely. The whole job took about an hour, maybe a little less. I didn’t keep track. But I’m sure it was somewhere between thirty minutes and eternity. I also haven’t missed a day of running, having run now every day for seven weeks. Not once have I opened my mouth. I always breathe through my nose, especially important in cold weather. Important always, really, running or not, running, walking, sitting, or sleeping, though I’m not very successful at the last, since I spend almost all of the night on my back.

Reading: I’m two hundred thirty pages into Melville’s Typee, and seventy pages into Chernow’s Washington. Most notable thus far in Typee is Melville’s scathing assessment of the destructive results of missionary activity in the islands, in terms both of native culture and disease. Most notable in Washington is the subject’s focus and endurance as a young man in the early stages of his public and military career. Even then he recognized the pitfalls of being ruled from afar, and had a sense of where it might lead. No leader is perfect: as punishment for desertion, he himself administered thousands of lashes. He had horses shot out from under him, bullet holes in his hat and coat. He had dysentery to a point far beyond exhaustion, near death. Pride. Strength. Fairness. A grasp of things. A great temper, which he worked hard to control. The English wanted the land. The French wanted the land. The natives wanted the English and French out. On one hand, it’s fair to wonder how anything good can be expected from a nation founded on slavery, theft, and subjugation. On the other, an amazing amount of good rises to the surface and shines through in the worst of times, as if kindness and murder are seeking a balance; hatred and art; ignorance and love. In the process, we may kill each other to the last woman, man, and child, while trying to own every material thing there is. Or we might miraculously outlive our ignorance, and love each other unto peace.

[ 2061 ]