Monday, July 29, 2019
Changes that mark summer’s ending: fully loaded horse trailers departing the big jumping show; sunflowers drooping on strong stalks and surrounded by dropped pedals; the strident screams of resident Ravens, now hushed, for their babies have become independent; hotter days but with cooler nights. Most significantly: my thoughts turning, from getting this place ready for action, toward preparing it for an off-season.
Yesterday afternoon and considering changes, I trudged uphill and into the house, grabbed a beer, and flipped on the TV for what’s new in the outer world. Just in time to catch the action in Gilmore with people desperately running from a shooter. I watched frozen, trying to reconcile this recurring obscenity, another sudden terror, destroying families and friends on a summer-day outing.
I remembered the previous day and the nearby horse show that had been packed with observers. I thought about the planned for musical and art venues, our big box stores crowded and without hiding places. For sure, this relatively small community has had shooters–deranged individuals who’ve murdered someone’s horse or horses, or shot wild horses in the Ochocos, or killed swans on the River, or destroyed household pets. Yes, some locals have murdered family members, too. These unhinged, obscene acts frustrate and frighten those of us who can enjoy and do appreciate life.
But an active shooter or shooters chasing people, to kill randomly those enjoying a summer day! It’s beyond comprehension, and yet, has become all too common. I cannot comprehend the degree of mental illness that can drive one to murder randomly, regardless of whether the goal is to achieve a single death or many.
Dear Friends: To this former Californian, the Garlic Festival is a gentle event. Diana