I am back in Colorado for another work stint.

I am in a different house.

I am in a neighborhood, of cul de sacs that don’t connect. My house is quiet in front but backs on a very busy road, an artery. The speed limit is 40 mph but people often go faster.

The house seems odd to me. There are curtains and shades on every window, all closed when I arrived. I open them, because I like light. There is a 3 by 4 foot television in the living room, another in the master bedroom and a third in a guest bedroom. There is a large kitchen with tons of shelves and cupboards, but a table only seats two, and there are two more chairs at the counter. This feels very odd to me. It seems as if the whole house is arranged to watch television.

I go for a walk in the neighborhood. There are many houses. There are beautifully trimmed lawns and there are flowers and some roses. What is missing? There are no people. Walking a mile and a half, finding the mostly hidden corridors from one cul de sac to the next, I see one man working on his lawn. Even though it is Saturday afternoon, I seen no children, no dogs, no toys. I see two garages that are open, one with a man and in the second I hear a child. Why are there beautiful lawns and no people? And many of the lawns have little flags saying, poison sprayed.

I do turn on one of the televisions after my first day of work. The living room one says that the antenna is not hooked up. The guest bedroom one works. I look on the service. Nearly every movie is about violence and conflict.

I do a little research on the internet. I go to the library and take out 8 books. One is Nonviolent Communication, by Marshall Rosenberg, PhD. Most of the others are fiction. Yet so much fiction is about conflict too. Good triumphing over evil. I am pretty good at nonviolent communication in clinic after 30 years: I want to meet each patient somewhere that is helpful. Sometimes they don’t like what I find, or don’t want to do what I recommend, but I have a deep and abiding faith that everyone can change, that they are smart, that I can make a difference and that they are capable. I think that belief helps daily in clinic.

I choose this book because I want to be better. Some of my family is estranged. I thought that was rare and horrifying at first, years ago. Now I think that it is horrifyingly common, much more common than I realized. How do we heal this? What can we change? I don’t want to be in a dark house with the shades down watching “good” triumph violently over “evil”.

There is a pond, man made, with a fence around it, half a block from my house. There are two male mallards, a female, and eight ducklings. They are fuzzy and delightful. I stop my car and watch the first time I see them, and I walk over too.

I haven’t seen anyone else there. I think we can change. I have hope. I have a deep and abiding faith that we can change.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: garlic.