Shelter in Place, San Francisco, California
The first hydrangea blossom took its time in coming and arrived a color we did not expect. When planted some years back, the bush boasted delicate blue petals surrounding a smaller white bouquet. Those outer petals, at least, have since turned towards red, until they're now approaching the color of the bougainvillea in the background (also newly blooming). We’ll see what happens when the inner circle finally opens up, but can you see shades of pink in those buds as well? It has to do with the soil, I am reading - in strongly acid soil, hydrangea flowers turn blue. In alkaline soil, the flowers turn pink or even red. I’ve been dutifully feeding the two bushes in our garden with an organic mix designed for them. I guess I should stop if ever we want to see again that original shade of blue.
I needed beauty this morning after staying up ’til all hours watching America’s cities burn, especially in what I have come to consider at least my honorary home - the Twin Cities. This morning my usual media sources chronicle the destruction that has been wrought there - buildings burned, agitators arrested, businesses closed, stranded neighborhoods in need of the most basic supplies (as if the pandemic’s shortages had not already been enough). Some people say that these events feel different - that perhaps we’ve reached a point from which there is no turning back. Maybe so. But my whole life, I’ve been told that racial disparity was on the way to being rooted out… that improved, integrated schools would solve the problem… integrated housing… the Great Society... affirmative action… voter protection laws... so many efforts that have not worked or have been abandoned and undermined. If we are to try again (and even if we know how it can be done), this will require an effort harder than finding a vaccine for the virus, more difficult than righting the broken economy. It will require personal and institutional responsibility, a united front (and even sacrifice) from white America, lots of money and political will. Sadly, I have my doubts that we can pull it off, especially now, in such a divided country.
But here’s the hope, small though it may be: my FaceBook feed is filled with tales more generous than the media's - thousands of impromptu volunteers with buckets and brooms, clearing debris and sweeping the streets; acres of free groceries piling up for distribution; neighbors pitching in to board up the storefronts of local businesses, and offering to stand in front of them tonight to discourage their being torched; impromptu neighborhood peace-keeping committees being formed block by block; garden hoses deployed, ready to put out rooftop fires when the fire company does not come. Can that energy and generosity be sustained and channeled into more systemic change? Let's hope it's at least a start. We’ll have to see what happens next.