We didn’t know it, but when we ran down the hill and raced into the depression well there, we entered a cesspool or cesspit of flies.  These were the horse flies.  They were large and black and loud.  If they started to bite us, they’d be the ubiquitous Black Flies of Cottage Country.

As soon as I had remarked to my friend, who had run down with foolish me, “I hear a lot of buzzing…. and things are flying at my face!” she said, “Oh my God!  We’re surrounded by flies!”  This exchange made me very frightened.  The ground was soft–perhaps with sponged-up rain water–and I immediately imagined we were standing on top of a shallow grave.  If we stopped longer or stepped harder, we would sink and be standing on top of corpses!

In my teenaged mind, this was entirely possible!  Just the week before, our music teacher had given us a little talk on Italy and Italian symphonies.  She showed us pictures of the Catacombs beneath Florence (it could’ve been Rome, but I am not sure).  She had gone on a summer vacation there, and although the Catacombs are nothing but holes and tunnels beneath the city, she was able to show us pictures.  All along the underground tunnel path, were cubby holes where the dead were placed, and, because the Catacombs were centuries old, the pictures showed us skeletons… dirty from age and mildew… not the bright white skeletons of western civilization.

I learned a little about the beauty of Italian symphony that is played with the Italian Operas, but I learned a life lesson about the Catacombs.  We have learned not to be barbaric.  Because we now have technology, and more and more engineers are being born, we have learned to be more civilized, without living with threat.  Now, people will not get their hands amputated for stealing.  The punishment appeals to the thief’s mind, and leaves the future open for a life.  Without a hand, there are about 80% of jobs that become unavailable for the reformed criminal.  Changing the entire future of the wrong-doer, is not going to make him change.  He, himself has to decide to do differently.  The police, and the government, only have an unending job of taking care of the criminals for the rest of their lives.  I am not sure if a criminal would learn something different, other than that the police, and the government, are terrorists.

I thank my teachers in high school.  I did hear the lesson, and I  did remember the lesson the next week, but it wasn’t until I heard about the increasing amount of terror in North America, that made me put the lesson in life context.  People’s lives are being affected every day, in a way  that makes being alive, a nervous experience.  I am not a fan of terrorists, but I wonder, what is it that they are missing from life?  Is there a way to preserve life, in any way?

I am mourning the recent Boston Marathon Bombings, as many, many, innocent lives have been affected.  I am nervous, a lot more often now, with even taking public transit.  I am buffeted by the wind, the rain, the snow, but on my mind, if I cross paths with a suspicious mind and I start feeling the dark clothing, the dark glasses, or the sports jacket, I wonder if I can outrun his path of travel, and get home free?  I am both fearful, and resentful that this is a way of life.  I fear, it will become much more accepted… and that we will end up living in a police state–the only way to prevent complete chaos from violence.  I would like to live somewhere beautiful, somewhere that I love, somewhere where the alarm clock in the morning is the only surprise every day.

I pray that everything will be alright.  I am young, and I am still working and living.  It would be nice to have a nice life, too.  I rue the terrorists.  I hope they find better lives too.