Starting a riot

Doing the one thing she can do, a woman goes out into the blizzard with a sack of bread for the crows. Rioting, they flock toward her as I stand at the window with my camera, drawn there by the crows’ racket, smiling a silent thank you. Warm and well-provisioned, I hunker down with a hot cup of tea, grateful to South Africa (and Ireland) for making their case before the international court. I loved hearing lawyers with Zulu and Xhosa names, filled with righteous indignation, gloriously rolling their r’s and making their points. It takes me back to my years teaching students with those accents; love rises in me and makes me warm.

It is -10C/14F, and my son texts me that The Lion King performance for today has been cancelled, so he won’t have to drive Cristina into town and pick her up after dark; their power is still on. I sigh with relief. Over 20K people in Portland are without power. So far Sue’s power is on, as is mine. My lights blink now and then in warning, and I hope the 10,000 who live on the streets of this city are finding shelter. 

Acts of kindness—like this woman feeding the crows, like all who are trying to stop the genocide—keep me from despair. Snowflakes visible when viewed large.