Portents, omens, and making a difference--

In ancient times, and indeed, even in some circles today, the occasion of an eclipse heralded momentous changes. The party atmosphere, the crowds, the hype and merchandise that surrounded the event yesterday all lent itself to a celebratory feeling. I watched it alone; Holly was asleep (which is fine, as she would not have been easy to convince to keep the cardboard eye protection on), and I sat on my front steps glancing upward and watching the shadows lengthen. The neighbors to either side were whooping it up (they are members of the same extended family), but when the sky grew almost completely dark and the path lights blinked on, there was a moment of quiet. Introspection? Well, for me, anyhow. 

The natural world, the movement of the spheres, will continue long after the Age of Man has sputtered to a close. That's a frightening thought, in many ways. I hope it's long after I'm around. Reading the news scroll today, besides the eclipse recap, I worry about a lot of things: politics, ignorance, poverty, pain, war and devastation. You'd think that an event like the eclipse might serve as a reminder-- or a warning-- that we share this planet, that there are larger things to be concerned about, even to celebrate. But mankind is a petty thing, in the sum of it all. 

I would like to think that I could --and will-- make a small difference. Maybe I can ease someone's day here and there. Maybe I can contribute an idea or two. If more people chose to make a positive contribution, or at least leave well enough alone, we might just manage to be around, as a species, a little longer. At least I didn't add to the pollution by getting stuck on the highway, engine running, for hours-- yes, that's judgmental of me, but seriously, we have to think about the lasting effects of our momentary pleasures.

Sobering thoughts, yes. And please, do recycle those cardboard glasses. The landfill doesn't need them.

Have a good day,

C