Ah, springtime is here in my garden. Well, it's rather foggy this morning, a kind of Rivendell type of morning for you Tolkien fans, with the trees shrouded in the mists, deer wandering through the forest, birds awakening to light of day, and wild turkeys in the forest gobble-gobbling their terrorist plans for my garden today. I think I'll check on today's war protests, recognizing the date of our disgusting and violent assault upon the Iraqi people in an obvious attempt to control the not just the oil, but, along with the Saudis, and James Baker III, the oil prices in the Middle East.
If you want some national as well as international news about the weekend's protests to the war in Iraq, check out antiwar.com, who provides coverage from Bangkok to Spain to Los Angeles to Athens to Toronto to the Pentagon. But we all know that won't be enough for the Bush Administration. I just hope that it's enough for the Democrats. Perhaps the protest tomorrow, Monday, on March 19th at Nancy Pelosi's office will convince the Democrats that all is not well in Mudville.... For a list of today's protests taking place in Idaho, take a look at Red State Rebels, a blog that frequently tells you more than the Idaho Democratic Party does....
And just in case you think these people march in vain, as of today at least 655,000+ Iraqi civilians have died in this war, 3,211 U.S. military personnel have perished (official number), and the war now has cost $409,052,121,231.
I hate to end on such a tragic note, but perhaps it's the weekend we should all be either marching or holding candlelight vigils. The Bush administration is like a runaway train, and although the train may be falling apart, they just keep on going. I would urge people to contact Nancy Pelosi's office tomorrow and let her know you are there in spirit.
On that note, back to the spirit of springtime, a reminder of the cycle of life that we in four-season country fully appreciate. It's time to start our seeds, be they for the garden or for the rebirth of Idaho into a blue state. I hope you'll enjoy a sonnet I once wrote about the disappearcne of winter into spring:
While tulips remain hidden underground
Under a thick white blanket, safe from cold,
Mysteries unfold there, without a sound,
A secret story waiting to be told.
Ten years ago the tulips seemed to hide,
But now I see them almost everywhere.
During each winter’s sleep they multiplied,
Now become common, when once so rare.
What happened during winter, I don’t know.
Do tulips do the things that people do?
What springtime preparations do they sow,
In full anticipation of the new.
I’m astonished by what I should have known:
During winter’s sleep, spring’s blossom was sown.