In Front of Wilderness
Sometimes I look at the current political climate and I get anxious. I sit on this beach in the Ottawa National Forest’s Sylvania Wilderness after canoeing until my hands are blistered and I think.
No, screw it.
I’m not thinking anything, this is Labor Day. I have worked. I deserve this break. I’m with my wife and dear, old friends. We’re canoeing into the middle of the lake late at night to watch the Milky Way dipping into the Northern Lights. We’re slipping among wild rice and portaging to the next lake. We’re watching eagles dip and glide; baby loons trying to climb on their mother. We’re a zillion miles away from Donny T. Hillary’s nowhere to be seen. And if Gary Johnson doesn’t know where Aleppo is, I’m certain he can’t find us here. Maybe Jill Stein knows this place. Who cares, it’s all going to be okay.
Just remember to register to vote, friends. And if your situation is like Wisconsin where Republicans are determined to keep you from voting, don’t let the fucking gerrymanderers get you down.