Amelia

This morning the March sky is particularly blue, washed clean and polished, looking like it does high in the Sierras. The mercury hovers around freezing but the sun carries a notable warmth and a certainty of spring.  The wood ducks and hooded mergansers are on the pond, the drakes dressed to the nines, waiting patiently on their mates who are preoccupied, inspecting nest boxes.  The mourning doves and cardinals and redwings are singing, the fall planted garlic pushes green spears through winter mulch, and everywhere are indicators that winter is losing its grip and a season of renewal is at hand.

Oil prices are up, pretty significantly, and might go higher. The people complaining least are those that rely on mass transit or ride bicycles or own electric cars.  Several factors are at play, pushing the price up, among them a stone faced authoritarian in Moscow trying to take hold of a neighboring democratic country.  He’s using a propaganda machine to convince his country that his actions are justified, but many of his people, and much of the remaining world, see it differently.  

In our own country we remain divided, with each side accusing the other of behaviors and policies that threaten democracy and run counter to the constitution and our way of life. On both sides are caring people who ultimately want many of the same things but disagree miserably on how to get them. 

It’s spring in Ukraine, a season marked by mud, mixed precipitation, and blustery winds. With longer day lengths a period of growth and production is initiated regardless of how comfortable the weather feels. But it’s doubtful, this year, that Ukrainians will enjoy the season.  They have other matters to tend to.  

I saw a video of a group of Ukrainians huddled in a bunker trying to find relative shelter from an advancing Russian army. Among them was a young girl, Amelia, maybe 8 years old, and on cue from someone she began singing a Disney tune from the movie “Frozen.”  The people in the shelter fell silent as a voice as sweet as honey and the epitome of innocence filled the room:

Let it go, let it go

I am one with the wind and sky

Let it go, let it go

You’ll never see me cry

Here I stand and here I stay

Let the storm rage on

A couple weeks ago we watched a documentary entitled Living in the Time of Dying. We found it a refreshingly honest review of an impending environmental disaster that will not be avoided but can yet be prepared for. Being ready doesn’t sidestep discomfort or great sadness or assure survival, but it puts us in a better mental place where we can take satisfaction in never giving up and choosing to be at our best while accepting the inevitable. 

And so another war is launched. It garners the world’s attention and fuel costs soar and there are shouts for more drilling amid shouts for green energy and a little girl sings through it all with a voice as pure as a newly opened hyacinth. And we live on in a time of dying with the March sun notably warmer, carrying the certainty of spring.