September 19, 2020
| Heather Cox Richardson | Sep 20, 2020 | 1,791 | 102 |
An early night for me, folks.
Tonight's photo is from friend and fine artist Jim Root.
He took it twenty minutes after a big storm crashed through.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
| 1,791 | 102 |
| Heather Cox Richardson | Sep 20, 2020 | 1,791 | 102 |
An early night for me, folks.
Tonight's photo is from friend and fine artist Jim Root.
He took it twenty minutes after a big storm crashed through.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
| 1,791 | 102 |
Like thousands of us tonight, I am devastated over the passing of our indomitable Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. But, It was time for her to rest, to stop fighting the pain, the medical procedures she underwent that kept her going. I am as distressed as anyone about her no longer being here to fight for the justice this country so desperately needs, but in a way I’m glad she is at peace. A body can take just about so much, and she had coaxed hers into hanging on just as long as she could - with no small measure of pain, I fear. I am thankful for her indomitable spirit; we can honor her by being as much like her as possible - quietly persistent in our resolve for a better nation and determined that justice, real justice is done. (I want going to post this, but I have been needing to say something all day! Thank you so much for your pictures of ME where I spent many a summer on the coast!)
Thank you Claire Crotty Thompson...
For Ruth Bader Ginsberg
When Great Trees Fall
by Maya Angelou...
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
#rbg
#thenotoriousrbg
#ruthbaderginsburg
#gratitude