A Song for the Situation


From Sabine to Chauvin, from NOLA to Pascagoula to Apalachicola, the watches are going up and the warnings will come. Even Gulf Coast residents well outside the current cones of uncertainty are uneasy; they know that tropical systems aren’t to be trusted, and it’s time to prepare.

It will take time for the tracks of Marco and Laura to be firmed up, but it’s clear that something’s lurking.  In the marinas, docklines are being doubled, and extra fenders hung. Gas lines are a little longer. In the local cafés and at the boat ramps, uncertainties stemming from this latest oddity — two hurricanes in the Gulf in one week? — are being endlessly discussed.

Amid it all, the unofficial anthem of hurricane season has re-emerged. There’s something comforting about Jimmy Buffett’s classic tale of preparation and resignation in the face of a storm, particularly if the shutters are hung, the boat’s secured, and the beer’s still cold. A few of you know the lyrics by heart. If the song is new to you, enjoy.

Comments always are welcome.

Shedding Circumstance


There’s nothing particularly charming about flood waters. Muddy, debris-filled and insistent, they rage indiscriminately, sparing nothing in their path.

Nonetheless, once waters recede, tokens of their presence can be surprisingly delicate. Unbroken grasses bend beneath invisible flows; trees wear faint watermarks with pride.

Among the jumbled plants, a few leaves dangle. Their thin, crisp coating of sand has begun flaking away; their striated surface recalls a season of growth.

Given over to death, they echo life: stirring before the wind, they murmur and sigh, casting off remnants of a strange and fearsome time.

 

Comments always are welcome.