December 5, 2019
It has been a long time since I wrote about my August trip to Scotland and, suddenly, it is December. This year has seemed both to be endless and to flash by. The world in the midst of the largest refugee crisis since World War II; the climate crisis is accelerating and causing great suffering and damage all over the earth; and American democracy is in tatters. Yet we also have bluegrass music, outsider art, Michelle Obama’s biography, RBG, Emma Gonzalez and a burgeoning democracy in Ethiopia. It is always the best of times and the worst of times.
My own life is the same. My daughter and her family moved to Canada and I miss them so. Several friends have died or are in Hospice. And yet, I drove to the Ozarks to celebrate my cousin Karleen’s 80th birthday and family reunion. I finished two books, both of which come out next year. I traveled to beautiful places to see people I loved. And I still have my view of Holmes Lake, now a metallic icy blue. This morning as I enjoyed my first cup of coffee, a sliver of silver hope rose in the east beside Venus. My grandmother called Venus the morning star. I call her Grandmother Star.