Here Eureka Springs today I'm sitting on my front porch with Rosie. The rumble of motorcycles from the highway below our home is steady, pierced only by the occasional sirens of ambulances. Fortunately most of the injuries are relatively minor and from which bikers will recover to ride next year.
I've heard that some local businesses are closed here due to the belligerence of some of our guests. Those who truly love this place will learn to schedule their visits when the swarms of motorcyclists are not here. And I remind myself that many of the bikers are nice, like the couple that stood in front of me at the Post Office. They were shipping home several packages of stuff they''ed purchased in our local galleries... art, no doubt.
We console ourselves in the current situation by remembering the money the bikers leave in bars and restaurants and remembering that while the noise is overwhelming, they are only here disturbing our peace for a short time, and will carry their resounding rumble home after the weekend.
Many locals just hunker down for the weekend and let the bikers ride it out.
A study suggested that there are 21% more organ donors and 26% more organ donations during major bike rallies in the US... reflecting a great loss for some and the savings of others. And so it goes. We are connected with each other in unseen ways, and I'm attempting to learn better of my fellow man.
To my college students yesterday I mentioned that making a box ought to be a requirement for high school graduation. Never having made boxes before, but were watching me make some, they agreed. Making a box you learn the truth of what Ruskin had said, (paraphrasing here):
Take a straight shaving from a plank or lay a brick level in its mortar and you'll have learned things that the lips of man cannot teach.
Make, fix and create... assist others in learning likewise.
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