July 3

Remarkable persistence of rain. There will be a deluge, then a few hours or moments of near-sun, so the flooding is not too bad. The atmosphere is thick, the scents enhanced. My orange rose and its five-jeweled crown of multiple bloom gleams in the dimness. This is an Irish rain, without violence, sweet, musical, but far outlasting its welcome. O that some if it might fall on Arizona and put out their fires! Had time to spend away because of the house cleaners, and I tried to walk around in Black Mountain, but there was no in-town parking, and though I’m usually willing to walk quite a distance, it could not be done under the twisting sheets of rain. I fear the tadpoles will float out of their ponds without knowing they have done so.

North Carolina has become the worst state in the Union. Usually it had a Mississippi or a Texas to buffer it, but our Republican legislature has worked overtime, wilful in its desire to do as much damage as possible, and to have that damage be unparalleled in witless stupidity and comic opera hypocrisy. They pass a law against the imposition of Sharia (no threat at all under any imaginable circumstance) and tack onto it a religion-inspired rider restricting the rights of women, thus demonstrating the misrule they claim to be guarding against. They have gutted unemployment benefits and never passed a law that did not have tax breaks for themselves as the object of it. They are at war with anyone who is not exactly like themselves, and are so insulated, so arrogant, such collective sociopaths that there is no real attempt either to hide or explain their actions. Most tyrants are at least bold. These tyrants are cowards as well. The wait until everyone has gone home and then give each other the secret sign. They are greedy brats in a candy store intent on gobbling up as much as they can before they are tossed out. The next legislature will have nothing to do but reverse, revoke, undo the work of the worst gaggle of clowns in my recollection.