daffodils in the morning

Early this morning (which I suppose wasn't really that early since the sun was clearly up, but for me was kind of early), I decided that too many springtimes had gone unphotographed in my life, so I hopped on a bicycle with my camera in a backpack. I rode down to the greenhouse at the end of my street, where hundreds of bright yellow daffodils line the entranceway. I'm pretty sure they were planted in full bloom, since they just appeared there one day, which makes me appreciate them less than if they had been planted by seed, but all the same--they're gorgeous.

And they made a fantastic pick-me-up start to my morning.

I've been thinking a lot lately about where I live.

Earlier this week at work, a sixth-grader started talking to me about street violence (he's a very mature sixth-grader). He explained that his dad had recently been assaulted on the street, and was going to buy a gun to defend himself. When he got older, he said he was going to buy a gun, too. He gets nervous when he walks home from school with his younger sisters, afraid someone will be following him. He said he needs a gun to defend them, even if just to wave it around and scare off any attackers. His family has "swords" in their home, to thwart intruders, he told me. Violence is a good thing, he continued, if it can teach kids how to protect themselves on the street.

And then he asked me, "Miss, I know you don't like violence. But what would you do if someone was trying to assault you?"

I was at a loss for words. I told him I honestly didn't know what I would do.

Then he asked, "But Miss, you don't live in the city, do you?" I shook my head slowly. "You must live in the countryside," he said, sure of himself. "There are probably farms and animals around where you live." All I could do was agree, with a guilty feeling in my stomach about this truth of my life.

I do live in the countryside. I do live near farms. I haven't the slightest idea what I'd do if someone tried to attack me, and it's definitely not something I contemplated in sixth grade, either.

The disparities that exist in our world--they continue to shock me, even now.