Thursday, March 11, 2010

March 11

At times on quiet waters one does not speak aloud but only in whispers, for then all noise is sacrilege.
    -- Sigurd F. Olson
March 11 and we look to the water, flowing over ice, around ice, under ice, seeking freedom, movement unstoppable. Water, falling from the sky onto already-saturated earth, then following gravity's path. So simple, so powerful. It has the power to carve earth, to cause conflicts; it has power over our souls, our imaginations. Water is what makes this planet our home, the one speck in all the universe where we can live. March 11 and we look to the water and we remember and we feel connected.

This is the third March 11 since that March 11. We mark the date in silence, each thinking our own thoughts and smiling out at a world that, as my brother put it 4 years ago, doesn't really understand anyhow. Can't really understand.

It seems that March 11 rolls around each year with that itch -- right in the midst of those first nice days when spring seems to have sprung (although there is inevitably a snowstorm around the corner), when the air is warm and wet, the red wing blackbirds and the herons have just returned, hopeful bird songs surround us... and those of us with summer hobbies, gardening, paddling and the like, want to jump right into it, although it is too early, really, maybe. But a good day to go outside, breathe in the fresh air, look up at the sky and down at the water and be connected.

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