You may be right. I may be crazy.

But the lunatics are warning us: we’re in a war.

Sigismonda Drinking The Poison. Artist: Joseph Edward Southall
Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash

I stopped doing overly political posts on Facebook some time ago. It got to be too painful.

But with all that’s going on, and the signs I’m seeing that suggest our society is taking a major turn toward the dystopian, I do share the occasional tidbit or quote.

The posts come across as cryptic. I know that.

And so a cousin of mine asked me, recently, to explain what I meant by a particular comment.

I declined.

But I do probably owe him something of an explanation, so here it is.

Let me put it this way

Many years ago—i was in my late 20s—i was out hiking when I noticed a plant I’d never seen before.

When I say “notice” I mean the effect was almost startling. Something about the shape of the leaves and their intensely dark color jumped out at me. 

The plant was enmeshed in a tangle of weeds but as a shape or pattern it stood out clearly, almost as if it were glowing or backlit. It was striking and very beautiful.

I took a leaf home and ID’d it. 

The plant was poison hemlock, one of the deadliest plants in the northeastern US.

How and why did I notice it? 

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