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 As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book |
| Evolution of Love Part 2 |
| Prompt: Memorial Day Waterloo, NY was the town. which first celebrated the Memorial day on May 5, 1866. It was chosen because it hosted an annual, community-wide event, during which businesses closed and residents decorated the graves of soldiers with flowers and flags. What is the picture that comes to your mind when you think of a soldier fighting in the front lines for his country? Here's a picture that comes to mind: The picture in my mind isn't of a parade, or even a quiet cemetery at rest. When I think of a soldier on the front lines, fighting for their country, I see dust. Always dust. It's in the air, thick and choking, kicked up by hurried movements, by distant explosions, by the very act of existing in a place where the earth itself feels violated. I see eyes – not necessarily wide with fear, but often narrowed, focused, and profoundly tired. They've seen too much, processed too much, and are constantly scanning, assessing, anticipating. There's a certain weariness etched around them, a weight that no amount of sleep could truly erase. The uniform, once crisp, is now stained. With mud, with grime, perhaps with something darker. It's a second skin, lived in, sweated in, and a testament to countless hours spent in discomfort and vigilance. The gear isn't shiny or new; it's scuffed, taped, and bearing the marks of active use. And then there's the silence. Not the absence of sound, but the pregnant silences between the bursts of chaos. The kind of silence where every rustle of leaves, every distant crack, every shift of weight, is amplified and analyzed. It's a tense, watchful silence, filled with the hum of adrenaline and the unspoken understanding between comrades. It's a stark image, devoid of glory in the traditional sense. It's about the grit, the exhaustion, the constant awareness, and the quiet, unwavering resolve that allows someone to stand in such a place. It's the human cost, visible in the dust and the eyes, that I think of when I consider a soldier on the front lines. |
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