Ragged

Watching a news clip of my old friend's arraignment this week, it shows him finally looking as ragged as it seems one would be at this point. When he was first captured and shown being escorted into the police car, he looked exactly, to the T, as he had when we all used to spend time together years ago, which was shocking to me. Seeing the difference between the two videos of him makes me wonder if he had been in some sort of shock-induced denial of what he had done, and if his present raggedness reflects the truth settling into him.

I am finding that the presence of his acts and his family's experience continues to recede in my daily thoughts, and that the easiest way for me to make sense out of it all is to imagine that he had some sort of a psychological break, because those acts were so counter to everything I knew about him beforehand.

On another note, our chickens, now two months old, have been enjoying free run of our yard (and our garden, when they find their way into it) for a couple of weeks now. It is a deep, pure pleasure to watch them scratching and pecking their way through the grass and compost pile.