It's my personal soapbox, a place for me to express thoughts and feelings, musings and rants, reflections and recollections; to have fun with words -- about things spiritual, environmental, social, political, economic, and, from time to time, personal. And of course about peace. Soapboxes are in public places (as London's legendary Hyde Park) on purpose, and so I invite conversations with you, for it is through civil discourse that we can gain some perspective on the seeming chaos of these changing times and learn together how to shape a positive future for ourselves, our communities, and the generations to come.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

The Walls Remember

I was just stepping off the curb to cross a street on the way to the post office this morning when I saw it…and came to an abrupt halt. Transfixed, I watched for several minutes.

A monster of metal, a modern-day T. Rex, grabbed a mouthful of the back end of the 88-year-old apartment building at 120 Tilton Avenue, chewed it up, swiveled to its left, spat it out onto a growing pile of razed ruins, and then swiveled back to take another bite. And another. And another. And yet another. As the worn and dingy building disappeared bit by bit from the rear, door frames, window panes, bathtubs, toilets, wooden chairs, slabs of stucco, and weathered timbers rained down – twisted, broken, crumpled – onto the rubble pile. And, bit by bit, green trees and blue sky came into view beyond.