Fragile

Every morning I wake up with anxiety. I reach for my phone to quickly scan the news to find out whether the new Korean war has begun. Then I check on the latest Russian maneuvers to see how close they might be to the Polish border. Did I mention I feel doubly anxious? Today at the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum I saw cargo planes, bombers, spy planes, and rockets capable of carrying atomic weapons of decades past. It felt nostalgic, patriotic, and reassuring. And then, as we drove back, the blood-read ominous sun hidden behind billions of haze particles, once again made me feel powerless and fragile.

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