It is winter and, in my part of the world, aside from a fleeting landscape of white following a snowfall, browns and grays dominate day after day, with long hours of darkness and only occasional sunny days.
A pink rose dangles on a bush behind my family room, refusing to succumb to earth’s demand to wither and vanish. It remains steadfast and strong as the wind and cold swirl around it. Its petals, tinged brown, hold on, resilient against threats – birds, bugs, squirrels, kids, wind, torrential rain, cold, even snowflakes. The rose will ultimately submit to its fate, and one morning will be gone.
Our country is the rose, holding on as long as it can. The American story has reached a dangerous juncture. Can it recoup its courage and moxie to move forward in a positive way? Or will the country become an uncompromising, autocratic, stagnant society? Long-term stagnation results in a steady move backwards. While other countries march on, the stagnant eventually find themselves at the back of the pack.
As a new year dawns We the People witness the changes, a political evolution (or revolution?) in real time, awestruck by the administration’s maneuvers that bombard us daily. Although worshipped by many, the current President is not a minister or monk, reverend or rabbi, priest, padre or preacher, Buddhist holy man or fakeer –a Muslim or Hindu holy man – although he is a faker. One day DT and his destructive policies and prattle will be tossed on the trash heap of history. Historians will study his popularity and the whys for decades.
I am not giving up on the idea that, after MAGA has stretched its muscles and folks see the harmful results of most of their policies, a majority of Americans will toss aside personal grievances against the government or Democrats or a particular politician to support the rule of law, fair elections, our country’s heritage, and reject MAGA, fake news, baseless conspiracy theories, and reconstructed history.
The rose in my backyard will die, but by spring buds burst open and flourish as yellows, reds, golds, and greens replace brown, decaying flora. Temporary residents, mostly migrating birds, return. Permanent inhabitants surface. Squirrels race up and down their favorite tree, rabbits delight in chomping on spring greens, a duck with babes waddling behind attracts humans snapping pictures. Dogs pass by with owners in tow. Caterpillars vanish and butterflies emerge. Flowers defy spring storms and push through soil swarming with worms and other critters visible if one cares to carefully inspect.
How long can I remain resilient as DT hangs on and sucks hope out of the country? How long before the power grab, the grandstanding, corruption, meanness, and cruelty are halted, reversed, and permanently buried?
I look forward to welcoming spring after a cold and dismal winter, politically and climate-wise. I doubt two positive rebirths will sync this year. Nature does not disappoint, but political renewal may remain a wishful dream. But stay tuned. The DT show’s second term ended its first year. A second year begins, but could be cancelled anytime.