Living between the hawk and the dove

CHASING DOWN THE MUSE

Sycamores, dressed in brilliant green and bright orange poppies,

blanket the hillsides. A red-tail soars overhead and everywhere

mourning doves can be heard cooing. The world renews itself as spring

opens wide her arms. Except in dark corners, where men hunt men with

weapons and steeled intent.

When does a dove become a hawk become a dove?

In nature, never. In human beings, often.

My heart is heavy and sickened, my country at war. Spaniards burn

our flag in the streets and chant, “Hate America.” Can they mean me?

Vigils twist to riots, and even the idea of peace is lost in the

exchange.

Our communication system fuels the fire with minute-by- minute

details of slaughter and incursion. Reality TV has sunk to an

all-time low. The wonder of our connectedness provides for our

spiritual failure. We watch in hopes of seeing something grand, our

appetites fueled by decades of escalation from Hollywood

blockbusters.

CNN’s “ticker tape,” crossing the bottom of a screen of talking

heads, turns bombing and body counts into a lurching motion sound

bite. We turn on to find out, to not be left behind. We hunger to

know. But to know what?

Is it over yet? Can I go back to normal life? Will my children

live free from threats? Did we get him?

The dove to the hawk to the dove.

In a balanced ecosystem, the dove and hawk co-exist insuring the

overall health of land in which they live. The hawk weeds out the

weak. Humans are more complicated.

Freedom-loving people have long acknowledged that with freedom,

comes responsibility. We have joined together to draft means for

living with one another, bound by rules set by ourselves.

When confronted with a person or group of people who pay no heed

to our common code, we are stunned, surprised, and sometimes,

incredulous.

Richard Machowicz, my self-defense trainer, taught me to prevent

myself from becoming prey. He has taught me to see a potential

attacker and to take action to protect myself. A homeless drunk is

likely not a threat, but can I discern him from a rapist, before he

is close enough to cause me harm?

I am looking for analogy. When threatened we have two choices:

Become unconscious and pretend that life is normal, or stand and

fight.

I know that Saddam Hussein has murdered his own people and that he

is an evil man. I do not know that he intends to harm me, but those

who now fight, believe that he does, and are taking action.

What can I hope for? A swift and speedy resolution. A minimal loss

of life. The words sound trite, yet the dove clamors to fly again and

again, even as the hawk hovers in the field.

In the face of confrontation, I continue to dream of resolution,

of a planet in which we have put down all arms. I continue to dream

of a global population focused on eradicating disease, pollution, and

yes, genocide. Each morning I light a candle and dream of a day when

wise men and peace will rule.

* CATHARINE COOPER is a local designer, photographer and writer

who thrives off beaten trails. She can be reached at

cooper@cooperdesign.net or (949) 497-5081.