Lucky

Another morning where I’m savoring the quiet, savoring the functioning utilities and infrastructure not blown to bits, and the tasty cold brew and the morning stillness and the singing birds and an extended family living their lives without the added burden, thus far, of worrying about war and misguided efforts of megalomaniacs to take it all away.

Maybe I check the newsfeeds too often, maybe I worry too much, but we all have a lot on our plates anymore, even as we go about our relatively peaceful lives here in America. There is no burying one’s head in the sand, unless we’re already living in a bunker in the hills.

The wearied people of Ukraine are fighting for their lives, victims of Putin’s evil, myopic, and moldy vision of putting the Soviet Union back together. Gazans are being pummeled into submission by an unrelenting army spurred on by a guy trying to save his own ass.

Smoke-filled skies, angry weather, unrelenting heat—already!—and the prospect of a savage hurricane season. And, of course, a presidential campaign moving toward what the pundits are telling us will be the most important decision we’ll make, well, since the last election.

Anyway, I’m savoring another quiet morning. The dehumidifier is humming and the lights are still on.