It is 7 a.m. and I’m waiting for a man who lives in an apartment in Qatar to give a speech at 9 a.m. Many are waiting for him to give a speech. He will, they say, decide the fate the world. They like to exaggerate of course but they may not be far wrong. He is the leader of Hezbollah and he will either rally the muslim nations of the middle east into a war with Israel or he will stand down. And that is where we are. At this time. I used to be up a 7 a.m. to watch the cluttered clouds scuttle and watch the sleet rain soften the edges of the landscape. And the crows. They don’t much like the sleet. I don’t much like the wars. But some things we cannot turn away from much. And on this one, I suppose I can’t. Peace. Here. Now.
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So far the speech is not looking good. Maybe it will end in forgiveness and patience and negotiations?