As I note the date two thoughts arise: first, "Already?" followed swiftly by "Again!" The Tuesdays - like all days, really - pile up into a somewhat staggering accumulation of vigil hours. And, I'm only 3/4 through my third year here. A few have been here night upon night for nearly a full decade. Today makes it roughly 500 Tuesdays (and Wednesdays through Mondays) of what I think of as bearing witness to the nation's choice to make war upon innocents.
14 people; no one brought dogs. Stories slip between us. It is noted that we've a variety in our wardrobe this breezy June day - bermudas next to winter jacketed people, shirt sleeves, sandals, fleece, a wool hat, turtlenecks and windbreakers. A truck passes with a friendly driver who cranks up his stereo in greeting; as he stops at the signal we note in the back of the truck are monster speakers - about 15 inch diameter in a wooden box. What a peculiar culture we inhabit.
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