Drones and Me

Yesterday, as I walked near the Richmond Shoreline, enjoying the filagree of grey clouds tracing patterns across the blue sky, I saw a drone hovering, watching me as I watched it. Words fail to describe the anvil of dread for our children’s sense of the world when skies will be pocked with little glittering cameras, buzzing like bees in a field of daisies. Only our children won’t see the clouds and the “bees” won’t see daisies; they’ll see us.