Thursday, November 1, 2012
Another week is winding down and another day—the first of a new month—has all but slipped away. More to the point, this has definitely not been last week's version of autumn, a distinction that felt quite apparent when I got my macho going, though perhaps not all of my brain, and accompanied Moon-the-Dog outdoors…shirtless.
The temperature was a nippy 47˚F. I didn't know that at the time. All I knew was that it felt cold and I could see my breath. Then I glanced around. Sunset was cranking up in the west. The sky gone all orange and blue. A stunning farewell gift. In spite of being woefully underdressed for a protracted pause, I still manage to lose myself watching the way the river caught and held the colors, blending, intensifying, giving them the magic of life and movement as the current rippled and swirled along.
I don't know why I haven't written a post lately. General ennui, maybe. Or perhaps distraction. Like most folks, I've spent a lot of time throughout the week watching Hurricane Sandy stalk its way ashore and chew up the East coast. Even now, I expect the latest aftermath coverage has yet to reveal the full extent of that super-storm's powerful destruction. Every so often, it seems, least we become convinced of our mastery of water and land, nature must show us otherwise.
I feel so bad for those folks who've just lost everything. It's easy to say that so long as you have your life, the rest is just stuff and doesn't matter…but really, while stuff may not be the most important thing, it's important, nevertheless. When you're down to the shirt on your back and everything you've worked for is suddenly reduced to a ripped-apart, waterlogged mess, it's mighty hard to feel optimistic. Perspective takes time, and some things can honestly never be replaced. Dreams and hearts have been broken, and lives shattered.
While some of the news maps showed all of Ohio as being affected by power outages, damaging winds, and snow, that really wasn't case here in the southwest corner. We received a couple of windy days, lingering colder temperatures, and a bit of rain. Power and cable service held. I did once, and only briefly, see a few snowflakes mixed in with the raindrops. Small limbs fell from a few trees. Otherwise, I still have flowers blooming, and on the island across from the cottage, lots of trees retain their leaves; most of mine were bare before the storm.
I'd like to believe I've been silent because, living beside a river, in tornado country, I well know—but for the grace of God and a turn of winds and rain, it could just as easily have been my little corner of the world on the news. And for that I'm very thankful.