Morning After

Listening to news from Liberia in the early months and years of the civil war, I could only imagine our former home through the smoke and gloom of Mordor. When I had a chance to go there with Catholic Relief Services, I took it. I remember waking up on my first morning in the country. The sun rose and the birds sang. I was mildly surprised.

In the churches on Sundays, people who had lived through nigh unto hell on earth could say God is good. All the time. Even in times like that.

This past Wednesday felt a lot like that morning in Liberia. A cheery sunrise seemed out of place. Most of the songbirds are gone, but the chickadees still flit, twitter, and mutter.

It's only our politics that have taken such a dreadful turn. And I think we can fix that.

Robins

The robins, or perhaps a robin, began singing at about 4:00 this morning, if singing is the right term. Robins have this sort of drunken or haphazard song that is never quite consistent. I propose that this is the result of sleep deprivation.