He Loved the Time Too Well

 

He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time too well.
John Clare

This quote sounds like it is referring to someone with bipolar disorder – mania usually comes in the spring and summer when the trees are green and weather is resplendent, but as fall progresses, with the leaves falling off the trees, and then winter, with its long dark, cold nights, depression may set in… a shroud that envelops the soul, a darkness, and emptiness that matches the starkness of a winter night…

Today’s word of the day is hard-boiled (HAHRD-BOYLD adjective 1a : devoid of sentimentality : tough b : of, relating to, or being a detective story featuring a tough unsentimental protagonist and a matter-of-fact attitude towards violence ; 2: hardheaded, practical). when I read this I immediately knew what I was going to have for breakfast, except I had mine soft-boiled with toast.

I was reading a May 30th issue of TIME this afternoon – there was a photo of Palestinian protesters carrying a dead comrade. I couldn’t stop thinking about this photo, it really got to me. I thought about it as I read the rest of the magazine, which included mention of a Nazi responsible for 28,000 deaths; the drug wars in Guatemala where 27 people were killed, 25 of which were decapitated ; and other purveyors of heinous crimes. How can these things happen? How do people lose their humanity? Is there a genetic fault in the brain? Or is it a case of nurture gone wrong? What can we do to stop such atrocities?