Summer Shadows

It's summer.

We wait a long time for summer here in the Pacific Northwest. Especially in this exact spot, near the top of a hill that overlooks the union of two big rivers and catches every passing cloud in its treetops. Rather moist and muted most of the year. Shades of dark green and gray.

But right now? Loud electric light. Air that's been scrubbed clean. Every green in the world. Flowers. Sweet smells. Bird song. A garden unfolding into all the delights I forgot about during winter with its long, cold spring.

It's just not possible to stay indoors, to think about human shadows and write blogs, when the shadows outside underneath the trees, the ones occurring in nature, are so vivid and compelling.

It's not possible to read the paper, to listen to the news. If only Charles Krauthammer went outdoors more! Four sentences into his editorial in The Oregonian this morning I felt like throwing up. So much hatred! So much vitriol for "the other side!" How did human beings get to such levels of rottenness in discourse?

Strength and comfort to you through it all, Barack. Thank you for being brave enough to take it on.

And to you, Mr. Krauthammer, a reminder that "the other" is merely a projection of what lies within your own heart.