ANTICIPATION

The earth is warming here in Montana, although the deeper frost has not disappeared. Still, my little crocus and grape hyacinth are poking through. I wonder, do they know the blossom that is coming? Or are they just restless with potential?

Yesterday I looked at pictures of UFO's hovering around northern Japan prior to the earthquake/sunami, especially around the nuclear power plants. Although for some readers this might sound very far fetched, there is evidence that as far back as the 1950's, when Eisenhower was President of the U.S., contact was made between him and "aliens," about nuclear power specifically. The off planet visitors indicated at that time that we can mess around on the planet with wars, etc., but that nuclear bombs are a concern for the solar system, and they would see to it nuclear power wasn't used to destroy the planet. Four months later Ike developed the Nuclear Power for Peace Program, diverting development into medical research more than military arsenals.

We are in a state of suspended animation about those three plants in Japan that are in an acute state. They are leaking low levels of radioactivity. Mrs. Everywoman Smith doesn't know just how that works. Does it keep circulating? In the Chernobyl incident, where there was no "container", the cloud circulated the earth, but not before down drafting near St. Petersburg, and leaving 18 acres of a barren, no-life zone, that is off limits to visitors to this day.

I feel personally in some kind of warp, wondering when my wide angle lens will once again narrow and let me focus on just one project, hopefully a writing project. Knowing the horrible suffering in Japan, in Queensland, in Haiti, in Pakistan has somehow derailed my usual patterns. Odd questions arise: how many acres in these countries will no longer be arable due to saline contamination? How will all the smashed cars be dealt with? How many wells are contaminated with salt water now?

Although I competently carry on daily responsibilities, and I feel my creative juices arising, I don't know the blossom, or the fruit. Like the bulb of the tulip, I only know I am activated.

In the meantime I repeat a little prayer that arrived with a prayer shawl I was gifted by our local Lutheran church: "May your gentle yet strong touch reach out to heal all the broken and hurting people and places in the world." May it be so.