The Peace of Wild Things

In response to the distressing events of the weekend, a friend of mine has put up a poem on Facebook:

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

by Wendell Berry

My despair in the world lies in the dread that there will be neither wood-drake nor heron, nor any place for them to hunt or live. 'So what?' answers a voice from somewhere. 'You don't have children's lives to worry about. If the world is ruined, it will be after your own death and you leave none to suffer, so you really have no stake in this.'

But I do love this world's beauty, I want it to remain whether we see it or not. It is no less beautiful unobserved.

Wood ducks nearly died out by the 20th century, habitats destroyed, feathers used for hats, flesh eaten. Then efforts were made to save the species, and their populations bounced back. This weekend a friend had a fabulous birthday party that I really enjoyed, and two other friends brought a baby into the world, and all are happy. I hold on to these things, even knowing that the voice in the dark may be right.

It is right. But it doesn't tell the whole story.

The Party and After

Was traditional in that many guests were utterly spannered by the early hours, and I was certainly one of them. The birthday girl was magnificent as always and her party reflected her. It was a grand time. Thank you november_girl!

We stayed where the party was, at the Hotel Du Vin, an excellent place with gorgeous showers. On Sunday morning as perhaps the least challenged of our party, in so much as my head was clear and only my stomach was rebelling, I was the one sent out to get hangover cures and found myself, not only wandering the town centre on Sunday morning, but quite liking it. This was such a shock to my system, I could only conclude I was still drunk. I'm not used to liking Brum.

The problem with the city is that to a certain extent it gets defined by its roads. I used to associate it with horrible traffic and rather down at heel buildings... Brum centre on Sunday morning, with its trams and pedestrian areas, and lights and markets was much more cheerful than my memory had allowed for. Of course, it could be argued that everywhere polishes up for Christmas, but it all felt lighter than I remember. We were close to the Cathedral too, a very interesting building. I wanted to go in and have a look at the windows properly, but I was too dedicated in my quest for troglodyte repair kit.

These three days have been quite extraordinary. There has been painful news, there has been joyful news. And there is today.

Snapped

Well, for god's sake.

I tend to stay off FB now, except in the mornings to wish people happy birthdays. But I try to keep my involvement down to 20 minutes, no more. The first thing I saw was a sort of minor friend ... not someone I know well but a pleasant enough gentleman... losing the plot with a few added expletives. And I just sounded off right back and defriended him.

Silly of me really, he's in general a fine sort as far as I know, and he wasn't being a bloody racist which seems to be an increasing rarity. He was probably just reacting to the manipulation of tragedy by FB, and I should have just let it slide, but couldn't hack the aggression and the swearing first thing. Hard cussing doesn't even bother me that much normally, it was just a moment's WT? like walking into a communal kitchen to find someone shouting at me. Now things are going to be awkward between us next time we meet. I'll try to make it OK without being dishonest; fact is he kicked off mighty hard. But it has been a while since I knee-jerked... Actually, no it hasn't. Last time was the death of Aylan Kurdi. All this stuff about refugees/wars and long term crap in the middle east is just getting to me. But this article may well help keep me on track.http://www.middleeasteye.net/columns/no-piers-morgan-how-destroy-islamic-state-1630388804

Oh, life is better when I don't spend time on FB. Then I tried to get on with research, only to suddenly come down with the most incredible migraine as I was reading about Tolkein and the war, it was so weird,the way it always has been weird, the glorious gift of an over-active imagination. For a moment I had this vision of the trenches and a young man smiling at me, then suddenly I got that wiggly sight through water that, for me, usually heralds the start of a migraine, and away we went, no more screenwork - in fact, no more anything requiring open eyes - for much of the day.

Still, I am much better now. And tomorrow will be better still.