I'm having a little trouble focusing this morning. I watched the news last night (the best reporting on the Gulf Disaster has been Rachel Maddow, msmbc) I'm sick about it and found it hard to sleep. The salt water runs deep in my veins. Perhaps it is "home" in so many ways; back to the beginning of time, or the fact that I grew up on the Gulf Coast. I didn't move to the West until 15 years ago. I find I left part of my heart in those nurseries and estuaries on the Gulf Coast. And I ache to my soul for the Gulf. The images coming out of the disaster will live with me forever. I feel I need to go to the Gulf and help, but who do I think I am God? Could I dive to the bottom of the Gulf and put my finger in the hole? I so hope they will be able to mitigate the damage. I feel it is difficult to breath, perhaps that is it. The oil disaster is sucking the air, or life from the coast. It will never be the same.
The loss makes it hard to go on, at least to go on as usual.
As Terry Temptest Williams says, in A Voice in the Wilderness, "We have to witness beautiful things die." And we are watching the Gulf and all it's critters die.
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