Jun. 09, 2002 - 21:40 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Where's Dante

A note: Sunshyn came home from hospital from hip replacement surgery on Friday night and is doing well and looking forward to a successful recuperation.

I woke up to an unreal sort of world today. A very thick haze was visible out our window. Puzzled me as today was supposed to be 94 degrees and clear. Heather came in from the laundry room and complained about the smell of smoke from the forest fire in Park County. I can't smell, only sense it when a smell is strong enough to choke. Smeared on my upper lip and even then I couldn't smell you know what.

The day has been relatively calm, just a very light breeze now and then. Heather and I needed to go out to do errands and visit our daughter and made our way through a miasma of hell, smoke around us and ashes from a dead gray sky floating down on the hood of our car.

The realization that this could be normal for us this summer dawned on me. Drought -- the enemy and a continuation of this all summer is almost unbearable. The knowledge that our whole west and prairie states can be like this all summer and dry fall is a heck of a prospect. The damage that will kill so much of our forests and the resultant difficulties is unimaginable.

I always take my anti-depression meds, one in the morning and three more times through the day. They aren't magic although they do help a lot. As the day wore on, that hopeless depression began to bear down on me. I can't take any more medication than my regular dosage because I am at the max dosage already.

So tonight with the curtains drawn and all the lights in the apartment lit I am holding my own, doing the best I can. I don't think anyone can expect more of a person than that. I have come up from a damn sight lower to place and know that in a day or two things will be okay with me again.

Recently I joined a burb of people (Fellow Travelers) who are of a like mind, those of us who realize that reaching the goal, however admirable is not the priority in life but the trip toward it. Smell the roses and enjoy the journey is a good way to look at things. The Burb belongs to a man who is fighting his problems, realizing that things could be worse and will be if we force ourselves to make them so.

Fellow Travelers, Bev Sykes ran on to it and joined as well as some more of us when we heard about it.

So, today will cease to be just after the stroke of midnight, then comes the new day. I think my "self," will have made the adjustment and in spite of the smoke and ash I will possess a modicum of serenity. The question is where is the inferno and Where's Dante ? . . . . . . . .

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