It’s a fraught time for many Americans. But WFAE’s Tommy Tomlinson, in his "On My Mind" commentary, says there’s a balm for troubled times, and it’s right outside.
George Orwell spent a lot of time thinking about what can happen when dangerous people run the world. But he also thought about remedies. And one of them, as we put it these days, is to touch grass.
In 1946, just after the end of World War II, Orwell wrote about his fondness for toads, and crocuses, and the other miracles of a British spring. The world was still crippled from the war, and Orwell was still skeptical of the future, but when he needed joy and contentment in his life, he turned to nature.
“The atom bombs are piling up in the factories,” he said, “the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going round the sun, and neither the dictators nor the bureaucrats, deeply as they disapprove of the process, are able to prevent it.”
I thought about him the other day when I went out into a cold driving rain to run a couple of errands. It felt outside like I felt inside.
But then I started paying attention.
The mums we bought a few weeks ago are starting to wilt in the cold, but most of the blooms are still defiant.
The rainwater sluicing down the street gurgled like a mountain brook as it ran into the storm drain. I moved a little closer to hear it better and saw all the oak leaves and tiny twigs riding the current, like surfers catching the last waves of the season.
The squirrels were still out hoarding acorns. I could hear birds in the trees. And that reminded me of a moment a couple of weeks ago, on a clear day, when I looked up as I was getting in the car and saw a bald eagle soaring overhead. We’ve lived in our house for 20 years and I’ve never seen one here before. As metaphors go, just before Election Day, it was a little on the nose. But there it was in the air, and there I was on the ground, watching in awe as it flew out of sight.
The trees and the birds will still be here no matter who the president is. The rain will still nourish the flowers no matter who serves as attorney general. All these moments some of us now dread — and yes, some of us look forward to — will one day be distant history, but a thousand years from now, the mums will still bloom.
The most important things in the world are always free, soaring through the air, rooting around in the dirt, blossoming in the sun. They might be damaged by humanity’s mistakes. But they will not be defeated.
Tommy Tomlinson’s On My Mind column runs Mondays on WFAE and WFAE.org. It represents his opinion, not the opinion of WFAE. You can respond to this column in the comments section below. You can also email Tommy at ttomlinson@wfae.org.
