Peace in the Storm

 October 9, 2020

“No news is good news.” Usually, we think of this adage when awaiting a doctor’s report, but this morning it came to mind as I was at my brother’s home to visit with my mother. The morning news was on; they were as usual, talking politics. Mom hadn’t gotten up yet, and in about five minutes, I had heard enough. I decided to go for a walk. 

My brother lives in an old fieldstone farmhouse, circa 1833, and the fields out back stretched to the woodland on the horizon. The sun against my skin warmed me seemingly from the inside out, even as the temperature in the shade only registered in the fifties. Above, blue sky flecked with the occasional puff of cloud stretched from horizon to horizon. In the middle of the field, a single crow perched high up on a lonely branch, surveying its surroundings. Not even a hint of breeze broke the stillness of the morning. Corn stood drying on the stalk beyond the fence. Here, politics doesn’t exist; that crow could care less who wins the election, and the corn cares not a whit about the polls. News is non-existent, and peace reigns, although the mouse snatched from its search for seeds by the redtail hawk might disagree. 

Mom woke, we talked and prayed, she lay down again, and we left for home. My bees were buzzing as I checked the hives. Storms are brewing, but storms are dangerous only when they get inside the boat. As long as I don’t let the news get inside me, this boat will ride out the political storm just fine.