While many women marched in urban capitol cities today, some of us in Podunk headed out for a snowshoe march. I attached a poster with my spirit animal, Linda Hamilton (the badass mutha Sarah Conner from the Terminator, as if you didn’t know that), to my backpack and tromped through the forest with my sidekick Lucy, the good Dr. Benedict, and Sarge.
We were in search of dignity and hope and we mostly found it in the frosted pines and soft snow.
Hollering single file about current events, we came to some clear headed, high elevation realizations. Perhaps the most profound — how grateful we are that the sick Californian freaks who tortured their 13 captive children for years are not running for Congress.
This saves me from the repugnant conversation with my crazy pants relatives as they explain why they are voting for the Turpins, in spite of their depravity, because of their pro-life voting records. “We’re all sinners,” my uncle would remind me.
And then Sarah Conner would step out from behind the tree, casually holding her double barrel shotgun in one bulging arm.
Where was I? Oh yeah, today reminded me to appreciate the small blessings, like marching on snowshoes with strong women in still public lands.