Sometimes it wins

 

Yesterday's news, like the day's before, was difficult to stomach. A fourth-grade girl told the story of smearing her own blood. . .

You probably heard it.

The news from the Ukraine is that Putin will continue to destroy and kill in a war of attrition. He has the firepower to do it.

This morning the January 6 Commission begins public hearings. There are three ways of seeing what's about to take place: 1) it's a Trump smear, another witch hunt;  2) it's an investigation into what exactly happened on January 6, 2021; 3) it's a final chance to put the Great Deceiver away somewhere for what he's done.

I'm a two-er, but I can't help leaning a bit toward three. Still, it's not going to be pretty because half of the Republican party still believes in The Big Lie and The Big Liar. Fox News won't run event--I guess it's not news. Will anything change? Don't bet the farm.

Last night's skies were rather typical early-June. Some deep azure blocked off-and- on by braggart clouds that rolled through threateningly, but delivered not much more than spectacle. The mix creates shades of sunlight that spread that Midas touch over everything. That backyard shot up top--that's what a half a stormy sky does to any ordinary thing. A camera makes you look. Here's more.

The Siberian Irises are out, like a chorus of Naked Ladies. Here and there out back there's color, but nowhere else is it as radiant as it is right now in the company of this kind of elegance. You can almost hear them sing.

It just seems as if everything is bathed in grace.

I don't mean to be impious, but sometimes I can't help but think that those who say "beauty can save the world" aren't all wrong. 

It's there, but you have to look for it, I guess.

I don't think I'll watch tonight's hearings, but I'll read the summaries and listen to the pundits, and hope, too, that something can happen to bridge all the hostility.

Simple subject. Simple beauty. 

Sometimes it wins.