Grace, Amazed
What a time this is. Tonight, I found myself suddenly singing harmony to "Amazing Grace"along with the notes that floated up from the police station near us, played on the bagpipes. Last year this time, clouds of tear gas spewed into our neighborhood from the same building, police in riot gear, police leaving the neighborhood in urban tanks toward the BLM protests downtown. At night, we shut our windows; at night, the voices of protesters rose over the breeze, then came the acrid smoke, shouting, loudspeakers far into the night. There were no bagpipes last year; tonight, there are multiple, playing on the roof of the old safeway-become-precinct.Last summer, the pandemic was still young; we had moved beyond our sourdough starters and toilet paper shortage, to months of protests, to social unrest. Then the fires came. The skies went red, then yellow, then the entire world was grey for weeks. Tear gas and smoke, air so dangerous it was unbreathable. Last night I attended...