Lois and Kyle have taken over the television downstairs, watching some movie that takes off on The Taming of the Shrew. My tolerance for movies is low: give me Pink Panther movies or The Court Jester, and I'm happy. (There are of course a few other exceptions.) But in general movies play too strongly on my imagination, and I find it easier to leave the room. Years ago (15 or more), Lois and I went to see Dead Poet's Society in Bulawayo. I have never gone so often to the lobby to buy popcorn, to the washroom for a break, anywhere to avoid the tension I felt watching the actual show.
So I am upstairs, looking out the window at the snow sparkling in at minus 30. More than crispy! Sparkling like diamonds! In the background a vinyl record plays Bach's Goldberg Variations on the harpsichord. A pile of unsorted papers waits beside me for attention, once the blog is done.
One could almost imagine that the world is right, sitting by the window with the bitter cold so close, and so far away. Today another report came on the imminence of a world less pleasant to live in: climate change. It seems far away behind the crisp, crunchy snow; but it is also intensely real here in the North. Winter roads in the far north are now back on schedule, but they were delayed again this year by the lateness of the deep cold of winter. Further north in Churchill, the polar bears walk through town, seeking restitution for lost habitat.
The moon is remarkably bright tonight. Almost one could imagine snow blindness after the sun goes down! Looking in my window I can almost hear the moon ask why we take the environment so lightly, so much for granted. I have no answer. Nor, I think, is there one. Sitting by the window, the bitter cold so close and so far away, fading into the past.
I am a Christian. I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ his only Son, born of the Virgin Mary .... The Apostles Creed and climate change war within, and both speak of sin and salvation. I wonder when it will come.