kcman
11-25-2006, 03:35 PM
There is a storm coming. You can’t see or hear it, but it’s there. There is a heaviness in the air, a sense of pressure, a feeling of something at the edge of your senses. It makes you pause and look into the distance with the feeling you are missing something. People feel it, animals feel it, even the earth seems to be gathering itself together, tensing in anticipation. Waiting for we know not what.
We go on with our daily routines but there is a sense of urgency to our actions. Like our four-legged friends, there is a desire to retreat to our dens, holding close those we love. But there is a competing need to gather that last bit of food, strengthen the nest, and add to our reserves; to better protect our families against the uncertain future.
Not everyone shares the sense of foreboding. Some try to understand, but simply cannot relate to the idea. Others do not care to understand, preferring to ridicule and denigrate anything outside their own viewpoint. The storm does not care if you believe it could happen. It is not personal. It will no more know or care than a speeding train will notice an ant on the track.
There is a storm coming. Can you feel it?
We go on with our daily routines but there is a sense of urgency to our actions. Like our four-legged friends, there is a desire to retreat to our dens, holding close those we love. But there is a competing need to gather that last bit of food, strengthen the nest, and add to our reserves; to better protect our families against the uncertain future.
Not everyone shares the sense of foreboding. Some try to understand, but simply cannot relate to the idea. Others do not care to understand, preferring to ridicule and denigrate anything outside their own viewpoint. The storm does not care if you believe it could happen. It is not personal. It will no more know or care than a speeding train will notice an ant on the track.
There is a storm coming. Can you feel it?