I leave my house around noon, wanting to escape my anger and frustration, heartbreak and worry and find something, anything, else. The day is bright, cold, and clear, with a good dusting of snow on the mountains and a light one in the yards I pass.
I head toward a nearby city park, an old one, created during the Great Depression of the 1930s by a work program of the federal government, with its towering trees and wide expanses of grass, shining green in the sun. People are throwing frisbees to dogs who leap in the air, exuberant and free. It’s good to see happiness, normalcy. But it’s the trees along the walkway that comfort me. They’re huge, at least ninety years old. The storms they’ve endured, the wars and political turmoil, corruption and chicanery, all manner of human tragedies that have swirled around them. Their roots run wide and deep. I love these trees. They steady me.
When I pass the pond, Mallard ducks are everywhere. I don’t love these ducks. Their poop is hard to avoid, there are too many of them in a small space, and they squawk much too loud. In this cold, some of them are burying their heads under their wings, curving into themselves, withdrawn and isolated. Trying to find warmth and comfort.
I don’t know exactly how right now, but I want to be like the trees in the coming years, anchored by what I believe in, trying to understand what has just happened in my country. I want to read and listen more, talk less. I want to understand the systemic reasons for the failure, the deep ones, that allowed this self- described dictator, this lawless man, to win over so many and be granted such power.
I want to trust the Constitution I revere, that will be tested as it has never been tested before. I want to help the people who will be increasingly vulnerable, never letting tolerance allow intolerance. I want to fight for trees and water, land and air that will be under increasing threat. To join others in these struggles. Trees endure not only because of their roots, their own strength, but because of the shelter of other trees, protecting them from severe winds and storms. Some scientists say they communicate, support one another in myriad, somewhat mysterious ways. They can teach us much, these trees.
Jean Cheney, Salt Lake City
