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Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Irene: Before and after

Last week, just days before a road trip and a hurricane, I took a walk along a way that I'd not visited in a couple of months.  This route include a pass by a cemetery that predates the Civil War, and yes, I like to stop there and reflect.  I discovered a new resident who had moved in some six weeks earlier, and a few steps away, this old fellow had survived the funeral and burial.

The summer heat, even in this shaded grove, had not been kind to this old fellow.  Yet, he survived.  Tendrils reaching into the hard red clay.  Residual moisture sought and retained.  I dared not touch lest I disturb that delicate balance and shorten his days in this world.

And so I left this city, this state, and flew to Chattanooga for work.  The hurricane brushed the city, and unleashed her wrath on the coast.

I returned.  Vermont was washing out to sea.  I settled in, and yesterday evening as the light of day faded from the realm, I went for a quick walk.  Yes, I had lottery tickets to buy.

Along the way, peeking from the freshened grass growing by a chain link fence, this fellow smiles.

As my native buds might say, Mother washed her hair, and now life goes on.

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