20 Million Things

A little minimalist.

New growth reaching toward the sky.

I’d talk about the first day of teaching but it would just make you sick. Let me just say this. Everything the school district said to the parents and the teachers were lies, lies and more lies. This will never work. People will get sick. Some will die.

Dying is the only way to get these smart thinkers attention. I can pretty much guarantee that the lawsuits will cost far more than just doing the job properly in the first place.

I’d like to use this photograph to jump into a discussion of going forward in the face of the pandemic, but I can’t. I’ve lost my driving wheel. I’ve long said that the country’s recovery from the virus is a marathon, a sprint.

Oops.

I made a mistake. I didn’t think the first surge would go on and on and on. I now think recovery will be a long slog through hip high mud. There are just too many people who don’t take this seriously.

I never reply to the comments on a story because that’s like asking for a ton of bricks to be thrown on my head, but I do read some of them.

I don’t care whether I’m reading a newspaper, or a tweet or something on Facebook, the people who do the most hollering, who pass on the most conspiracy theories, or the people who are just plain angry at everything, I’m worn down. My hope is shattered.

I’m trying to figure out if there are a lot of people who think in those terms, or if there are a few of them who are very noisy.

Hopefully, it’s the later.

The Picture

Another dog walking picture made in the late afternoon. I was watching the sunlight dancing around trees, bushes and plants. I asked the all seeing dog to stop whenever I saw something that struck my fancy and I made a few pictures. She always agreed.

Lately, my pictures have been fairly simple. I suppose it’s a reaction to the world around me. It’s my brain’s way of making order out of chaos. It’s either that, or I’m sinking into the swamp.

Stay safe. Stay mighty. Enjoy all the sunlight.