The News will have to Wait

Sometimes, a person can plan to listen to the news on NPR on the way to work. It would certainly be the adult and intelligent thing to do. After all, there is an astonishing political war in California, a gruesome war in the Mideast, and a horrific war against the elements on the east coast.
But my radio was tuned to the Canadian station that plays such treats as a Gregorian Chant featuring Alanis Morissette or a Chinese Children’s choir or an African Symphony.

This morning started with the serene pastoral sounds of a flute, maybe a piccolo, and an occasional ring of the triangle. I was lulled into envisioning little cartoon characters romping in meadows, leaping over tufts of grass, smelling wild daisies and summer greens. Miles meandered by. Hills and dells, gentle blue sky.

Then, abruptly, the shout of trumpets calling all heros. Yes, the William Tell Overture, what else? Suddenly, I was no longer a bobble head nodding to the stories of war, murder and child abuse. I was transformed. I rode my trusty steed, Fury/Flicka/Buttercup/Silver/Trigger. Hoofs pounding over the beaten path to some glorious adventure. For a few brief minutes, I was important. I mattered. I had risen above what I see and hear and feel. I was something else that words could never put meaning to. I was ethereal.

I am sure the political combatants were still fighting over chad-worthy punch cards. I am sure American Soldiers were suffering unimaginable conditions in the most hostile of environments. I am sure roads were being flooded and homes ruined. And little children were desperate for protection. And poor people everywhere were suffering.

But just this once, I got past what is today’s reality and peeked into what should be reality.

Ahhhhh. I needed that. :)