As the end of March draws closer, we watch and wait.
With the silence of the absent waves before a tsunami, we’re holding our breath and watching the shore. It’s easy to be sucked into such a pause. The quiet is deafening, there are no birds. The waiting is hypnotic and fixes you stationary where you stand.
Once the wave breaks though, should we still be standing, there will be much to do. So we have been making ready, encouraging others to higher ground and doing what we can.
Life will continue after the big wave, even as it lays waste to all in its path, and intransigence about what might have been without the water will make it different.
We must fix in our minds what we hope to make the world look like after the wave. We must prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.