Some folks will say it's always been this way — genocide, war, history repeating endlessly, but I feel (and what do I know?) it's different this time. The time is thinning, and it's not just the season, it's  consciousness, not just human, but cosmic, the ether that flows through our minds, winnowing fine matter. Just now I think of water striders striding on the surface tension of water. I did a collage a while ago that said It was a beautiful struggle, something like that.