Life

After three straight days of barely leaving the house, tied to my desk as I blogged, Tweeted and ranted about the Troy Davis case, I went for a walk this morning. Three days of sitting left my poor knees and hips begging me not to run, so I walked.

It's going to be hot today; though September is drawing closer to October and fall is definitely coming, the temps are still warm around here and there weren't a lot of people out around the neighborhood. I was left alone in my thoughts, which are still a jumble of sadness, anger, shame, and determination.

As I walked past the wetland preserve area that my neighborhood borders, I saw a site I've seen before, but not for many months--a wild rabbit leaping through the grass, it's comical ears at attention as it's powerful back legs propelled it a foot or two off the ground with each leap. I stopped and watched it, smiling. There is still so much life to celebrate, even though we snuffed out a life last night.

I got to thinking about my friend Lindsay, and the tiny life she is nurturing right now. We duck ladies laugh about the fruit and vegetable references made in the weekly email she receives about the baby's development. I know it was recently a bell pepper, going on an heirloom tomato. We all guess that soon it will be a baking potato. There is so much joy in following Lindsay's excitement for this new life, and tomorrow, if Baby cooperates, Lindsay will know if it is a boy or a girl.

So we celebrate life and the living, and yet we mourn a senseless death. A preventable death. All of this raced through my mind as I watched the rabbit disappear into some tall grass, and I whispered, with tears in my eyes, "I'm so sorry, Troy."