Outside, the rain falls. A few weeks ago, we laughed as we watched our Granddaughter splashing about in spring rain, trying to catch drops on her tongue, our hearts were lifted and alive. Today the storm seems dark and ominous, each twinkling bead filled with hidden dangers...radiation, mudslides, floods, the whispers of war. The wind seems to roar with the anguished voices of ten thousand lost tsunami victims, the street flows with the tears of a half million left homeless from the earthquake, the thunder seem to be an echo of explosions in far away countries as we drift into wars we can not stop.
As I rode my bike to the store the other day, I smiled and spoke words of happiness to people on the streets as I always do. The eyes that looked back were filled with fear, no smiles were returned, faces turned down or away with some type of protective shame. A foreboding is hanging silent over us, a darkness holding it's breath, waiting to pounce. It is a tangible thing, the voices in the store were subdued, like a library or church, the cashiers absent of their usual chatter. The mothers in their SUVs scurried determinedly to gather their offspring from the school with grim faces, with none of the usual courtesies. Walkers with dogs in tow pulled away.
Outside, the rain still falls...