This January finds me contemplating the underneath of things. Creatures tunnel under the snow making unseen paths, communicating with each other in the dark, feeding each other twigs and nuts, maps and news. And then, one day they emerge. I see their tracks tight and close along fences and rock walls before breaking into open space—large leaps pummeling toward covered decks and thick pines.
When rabbits and squirrels do this, I stare in wonder.
This year, I learned that my fellow citizens tunneled under the radar making Internet paths, communicated with each other in dark spaces, fed each other conspiracy theories and lies. On January 6, they emerged. I saw them march in tight formation up the steps of the United States Capitol. They scaled stone walls before breaking into space reserved for open debate—and pummeled across House and Senate chambers sitting on chairs thick with power.
When the “Father of Lies” creeps into the minds and hearts of people who call themselves patriots, I stare in horror.