Going with Butterflies

First thing every day I read the Times On-line, global version. For me, watching the world of late has been like watching a magnificent caterpillar turning itself into a stone-like crysallis. This is surely a time of massive change, therefore a time of great danger, therefore a time of great excitement. I'm not just talking about banks and stuff either. In fact the last time I felt like this I was six years old and the London sirens were beginning to sound out nightly and children were being 'evacuated' and their fathers put into uniforms and their mothers leaving the kitchens for the munitions factories. You could sense that your world would never be the same again and it never has been.

It's really quite strange because, right now, nobody seems to want to acknowledge the reality. All the talk is of something called recovery, as if what is happening is a mere interruption in mankind's ever onwards and (?) upwards so-called prosperity. If only our leaders could find it in themselves to see something other than what has passed and start planning for the ways in which our children will live - and what has to happen now, body and soul, to make it come about. But let me be charitable and say perhaps they themselves don't have a clue about caterpillars and crysalles and butterflies or the like. And/or perhaps if you live in an ivory tower you wouldn't like the sound of, much less feel the need to acknowledge the word 'change'. In world war two at least you knew what all the agony was for, believed Churchill's talk of us all going on to those "broad, sunlit uplands" of his. Sorry, Winston; the sun did come out but most of us got rid of it some time back; buried it, along with ourselves, under piles of mammonic excretia.

Pessimistic? I think the opposite. Living where the air and the light is this clean and clear and amongst so few people, most of whom you know well enough to exchange a smile with in passing, I think I can, in mind's eye at least, see the emergent butterfly in all his shaking, brilliant, fresh-winged splendour. In fact I think and write about this in my upcoming novel. Going with Gabe might help those who can make a difference, who knows?

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