Remembering a War Spring

10 years ago yesterday I just had to get away from the radio news, breathlessly covering the “shock and awe” of Bush’s army entering Iraq.

There was only one thing to do. Draw a breath and draw a flower, or 10.

My hill was covered in spring wildflowers. 

Studying the forms and colors helped take my mind off what I thought then, and know now, was a pointless, wasteful war–based on lies.

Identifying the flowers, looking them up by color and shape and rolling their Latin names in my mouth was oddly calming. 

Bad things were unfolding overseas, but the velvet nap of pink Maple leaves unfolding was very good.

Lucy was still alive and lay near me, eyes and ears tuned for signs of danger.

Pinks and oranges starred the grasses.

That war is now supposed to be over. Other wars loom. March is here.

Time to go draw flowers again.