THE WARBLER AND THE MADNESS
THE WARBLER AND THE MADNESS: And so I returned from guiding another group into the wildwood. And it was fine and grand, filled with scarlet tanagers and towhees and wood ducks and 116 other species, including a ridiculously beautiful little yellow warbler caught by photography in mid-song. We lunched on overlooks high above the Mississippi Valley. We wandered among wild ginger and trillium. We gazed at bald eagles soaring somewhere in close proximity to heaven. We made lasting friendships and shared a significant portion of this little journey we call life. And we–or at least I–saw nary a newscast or a demented social media ‘tweet’ for a whole week.
That last part is important. For at the end of our sojourn we returned, as one must, to ‘the real world.’ To news of a madman stealing every cent he can from our country through the most corrupt administration we have ever known. Or even imagined. We returned to grift and fraud and egomania and narcissism, to war-making and economy-wrecking, and to ignorance and cruelty on an industrial scale. And we were required–by good citizenship– to pay attention. To despise what we see. To once more join the fight against it and toward a better future.
So, OK. I will. We will. And at some point, I believe, we will win. And begin the long and terribly arduous process of trying to restore decency and competence, honor and honesty to the land we love. But one thing I will not do–any more–is refer to this malevolent clown-show born out of the mental/spiritual deficiencies and depravement of one man–and his equally culpable enablers and supporters–as the ‘real world.’ No. Not anymore.
Not after watching and listening to the little yellow warbler, and his equally glorious cousins and companions, sing songs of the soul from an aspen-top. Or an oak or a cottonwood. Not after seeing them paint the morning sky with beauty, and launch arias upon the morning air. That, my friends, is the real world. Still here, still supporting us, supporting our every breath and our lives upon this planet.
So while the stupid and malevolent can demand our attention and opposition; while they may corrupt and destroy, and threaten the very environment we love and they pillage, they cannot call their mental cesspool the ‘real world.’ That title is owned and honored by the little warbler. And by those who appreciate such things.
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