Ants have taken over the kitchen. The bathroom too. I clear them away and feel awful, like some genocidal maniac. Is it better to spray them or crush them? Do they even feel pain? My empathy barometer is sensitive these days- setting off alarm at even the imagined pain of others.
Later, I'll find escapees still crawling on my leg or neck and think nothing of squashing them instantly.
It's unseasonably hot here, no wonder they're confused. I've never read Silent Spring but I'm sure we're living it. And it's hard to know what one can do to help anything at all, being one. There's always escape to a greener, more temperate country while it remains so.
Today I am grateful for two working legs, arms and eyes. While they last. For two cats and one partner to celebrate life with in this little cave. For family far away. For close friends. For daily walks and podcasts and coffeebean. For books I mean to read and volumes I mean to write and art I mean to create and careful patience with myself.
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