On a Wing and a Pra... Well, Almost Falling Off the Wing

I was thinking a lot this week about what to write. In fact, I have a little ditty on monster films and why I like them already in the works (don't worry, it's not that exciting), and have been thinking a lot about the music industry and how it affects a person's gray matter... in both good and not-so-cool-ways. But for now, I figure I'll just jot down some train of thought... and hope not to offend anyone.

If you didn't know, we got slightly more than dusted, here, with snow, since last night. I love watching it drift lazily to the ground; heck, I like watching it stream kamikaze-like when the wind's blowing hard enough! Either way, I love to watch it snow. 

Wait, what's this "it"? 

I hadn't thought much of that phrase until I wrote this. Watching it snow. Is the sky snowing? Is the air snowing? What is "it"? And why do I care?

There are so many things in this world, one can only assume, that are so far beyond our comprehension. I have had the opportunity/privilege to travel to many places throughout my relatively short lifespan, and the variety of culture and geographical layout is astounding; not to mention the amazing people I've met, or simply seen in passing. Anyone's who has been to the East Coast and the Mid-west can see the differences in our own country.

I had the great honor to go to Sierra Leone (in
Africa; just in case you're as geographically challenged as I) twice this past year, and it affected me on deeper levels than I could have imagined.

(… okay, a little distracted… watching Phantom of the Opera, performed in London, on PBS… Almost as fun as the first time we saw it here)

I’m back. 

Sierra Leone is one of the dirtiest, poorest, most broken and crowded places (in the city, that is) I could imagine. And, yet, it’s so beautiful. Vast landscapes and mountains shrouded in cloud. One can see the ocean lapping along a golden coast, while a short distance down the harbor, an entire village is built on a refuge heap. I was also told stories of distraught parents who would leave their disabled children on the beach to be taken out with the tide.

Beautiful Sara; now with her family in the U.S.

I am not completely sure of the whole story, but one of the little girls I got to meet on a few occasions was force-fed boiling water or some type of acid when she was small. It was obvious, when I met her, that she was what we would consider mentally delayed, but it was also transparent that this is a beautiful soul. She smiles and giggles, regardless of the scars visible on her chin; regardless, indeed, of the fact that she lived in such an impoverished country. Now, as of a handful of months ago, she has arrived in the States and lives with a loving adoptive family.

Similar to thi

s little girl are the history surrounding Sierra Leone. A beautiful country, with equally beautiful people, but also riddled with scars. 

Okay, enough babble, or hopefully I'm stopping before it becomes babble... anyway, have a good week!