Disturbance of the Quiet Seasons

We should not have been surprised that the Trump presidency would end like this after four years of scandal.  Still, the enormity of inciting an insurrection continues to sink in, and as more details have come out it is clear that our nation narrowly avoided the murder of our Vice President, Speaker of the House, and many of our legislatures by a MAGA-hat-wearing, angry mob.  So we continue to watch much more television than we have watched in a long time, hoping not to see yet another “Breaking News” banner on the bottom of the screen.  Some are thinking that the worse is over, that January 6 was the last gasp of white supremacy, while others are predicting more violence on or before January 20, perhaps in state capitols around the country.  We are awaiting with bated breath the inauguration of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris on the 20^th and a hopeful new era of competent leadership. 

Only two weeks ago the din and the sordidness of all of this was in the background, and we felt that we could take long walks on the beach and enjoy the simple pleasures of living beside the ocean.  But our serenity has been shattered, as it has for many, and it will be difficult recovering that sense of peace and tranquility that is at the heart of our annual Sabbaticals.  As T. S. Eliot wrote in Murder in the Cathedral:

We have suffered various oppression.
But mostly we are left to our own devices.
And we are content if we are left alone.
We try to keep our households in order . . .
Now I fear disturbance of the quiet seasons.

This afternoon we turned off the news and took a four-mile hike on the Elliott Coues Nature Trail at Fort Macon.  We are fortunate that the Fort and its hiking trails are so close to this condo, and that there are several hiking options.  So far this year we have completed the new loop trail near the Picnic Area and the Oceanside portion of the Coues trail which climbs up on high sand dunes and overlooks the ocean. Today, with a strong 25-mph wind blowing off the ocean from the southwest, we took the relatively sheltered salt-marsh portion of the trail, which winds through a shady maritime forest and offers views over the marsh and Bogue Sound to Morehead City.

 
There were a lot of folks out on the trail on this Saturday, including many families with children.  Perhaps they, too, were escaping the frightening news on television.

There are some wonderful twisted live oaks and red cedars in the forest, and as expected we were out of the wind.  

There is always something about hiking, as with running and walking on the beach beside the ocean, that helps restore that sense of serenity that we strive to feel:  the fresh air, the friendly people passing by with a smile and a word of greeting, the happy dogs on their leashes – the quiet seasons. 

We returned to the condo refreshed and rosy-cheeked, after a detour across the Causeway to Blue Ocean for dinner:  Parmesan-baked scallops and roasted sweet potatoes, which I offered to prepare this evening.  I hope I won’t set off the smoke alarm as I did the last time.