When I am waiting, as I am waiting now for the authorities to figure out what happened in Boston and, again, a President in my lifetime is using the word terrorism, the only solace I have found, and I speak for myself only, is other creatures. Non human creatures. Landscapes. A group of boulders.
The fir tree next to our shed. It's probably been in that spot for a hundred years, it will outlive the shed (not a challenge, really); it will outlive me.
Creatures that wouldn't know what to do with a pressure cooker because their business is swimming or gliding looking like Muppets, or "sentient English muffins," or sea cookies (as people have mentioned on Twitter, in response to this video) comfort me.
I was outside yesterday, feeling what in the world is the world coming to? sending a "the family in Boston is all okay" message to my parents on a ship nearing Morocco who knew nothing, and in that moment, a robin or some other bird shat a really loud and liquid -- splat -- on the arm of the chair I was sitting in.
How wondrously wise wild animals continue to be in their complete disregard for us.