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March 24, 2022

So I’m up on the roof. The day has been cool (for us) and clear with only a few clouds after a morning of light showers. The sun is still setting on the land, but every day it creeps a little closer to the ocean. Today promises to be a brilliant reflection off a thin layer of clouds and a large mass out on the ocean. The breeze is light, a change from the blustery 20 to 25 knot winds of the last week or so.


My island, like I guess most other places, is settling into a new, yet seemingly sustainable normal. We still mostly wear masks in public places, like stores, but elsewhere it’s mostly personal preference. I’m proud that we haven’t seen much of the ya-ya about them here.


I’ve been thinking about the current uptick in book banning and even some book burnings. As a writer and hopefully one day published author, I find this offensive. Creating and publishing a book requires hundreds and hundreds of hours, hours often thin- sliced from daily lives stuffed with responsibilities and obligations. It is wrong to deny others the right to enjoy the results of our hard labor. It is wrong to deny people the opportunity to be uncomfortable. There is no growth in a sterile bubble. No deepening of our understanding of the world and ourselves. No enrichment of our compassion for the plight of others, nor of our appreciation of the delightful diversity of our world.


Despite the fear turned to hate manifested in censorship (and elsewhere), I cannot but be confident in the abiding strength and essential goodness of the human spirit. We see it most poignantly in the images coming out of Ukraine but look around. The man that chases you down to hand you the keys you dropped. The woman who stops her Mercedes to pay five bucks for a cup of lemonade. I believe if we pay attention, we will find more reasons for hope than despair. For love than hate. And that, my friends, will change the world. Cobb Out

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