News of the day.
What matters – really
matters – rarely comes from other people, and almost never from the media. In fact, all their clamoring for attention distracts us from the real news of the day:
- We must have half a dozen squirrels, and at least that many birds at our bird feeder, and I can’t tell any individual from any other (of the same species, that is). But I’m sure they can – why can’t I?
- There must be a hundred different plants in our yard – trees, flowers, grass, vegetables, weeds – and I could fit all I know about them on a single sheet of paper. Why don’t I know more?
- I have neighbors – children growing up – across the street, and I don’t know their names. Why don’t I?
These all affect me more than anything I’ve seen on TV, or read in the newspaper. If I don’t even know what’s around me, how can I tell if anything’s wrong? How can I tell if it’s getting better, or worse? How can I decide what to do?
A quarter-inch of rain is all we got. I picked a beautiful bowl of berries, blue, black and red, and we ate them with Jenny’s black forest cake, without cherries, with berries and cream on the side.