Saturday

Elsewhere?


Elsewhere?  Normally not a place I'm interested in going, committed as I am to the here, the near and the now.  Here, near and now for me is a rural place, abundance measured by tree, meadow, hillside. Birdcall and birdnests.  Skunk, possum, raccoon rambling through.  Deer.  Even an occasional bear: black, fat and fine. Streams, springs and a small clear pond filled with colored fish complete this more than idyllic picture.

Not that I can see any fish under today's deep layering of ice and snow.  Ice, thick and strong enough for a skater to pirouette across the small expanse.   I have often imagined the fish enjoying sky, cloud and tree through the water's membrane.  To see a skater dancing above them would surely put them over the moon.

Elsewhere?  West Virginia has been on my mind more than I would like.  The foolishness of profit's kingdom. The indifference.  The insanity.  I think of Goya's great painting Cronus Devouring His Children and am stunned at how well it describes for me the tremendous greed of our own age.

Elsewhere?  Twenty miles or thirty?  One state or two?  Same mountain range?  Same continent?  Same planet?  Elsewhere isn't right outside my window today but the ravaged waters of West Virginia's Elk River have brought it much closer.

The here, the near, the now are calling.  That black bear? Sleeping close in a cave by a rock-faced river? Let her be safe this night.  Let the moon and stars dancing across the river's water enter her dreams.  Let that river's water be clean.

Elsewhere?  Is that even possible?