killing-maine

We sat bathed in luscious darkness, Casco Bay's thousand islands spread out before us like a diamond quilt. 'I don't get enough of this,' she said.

She was at the same table near the back where three nights ago I'd sat entranced by her songs. And where the two of us had talked like old friends.

A moment of peace and silence, breathing in and out the frigid air, watching daylight seep into the forest, hearing the first chatter of distant crows, the wind sighing over the snow and through the fir and pine branches and the twittering of chickadees as they flitted in little tribes from tree to tree.

These steel monstrosities screamed night and day, blotted out the starlit skies and Northern Lights with flashing red strobes, slaughtered thousands of bats and entire flocks of birds banished tourism and wildlife, made people sick and drove them from their now-valueless homes.

Then I remembered how she was - fiery, ruthless, smart, and despite herself very caring, not a person who hurts anyone.