Say Anything? Okay!

Dear Maria,

Thanks for describing the last letter as—chatty? Chatty. Much have I been accused of before, but never of being chatty. I thought I might be a bit more emboldened this time around. Or not. Does seem that verbal blasts are the coin du jour. Pretty much can say anything. I’ll try to sling around some bombast here and there. Please don’t fact-check me into the corner boards.

Still curious about the lack of smaller birds at the feeder post-flooding rains. No wrens, no finches, no sparrows. Just watched Carolina chickadees chasing each other away—I’m at my desk—off the feeder and into the bushes and back and forth. Three of them, and no peace at hand.

Maybe if Trump is elected he cuts his hair a la Putin and we get into limited war bully e bully, not in the Middle East, but across the polar North. Goodbye Vladivostok and Anchorage, goodbye Archangelsk and Fairbanks. Then we stop just in time, but not before Trump’s son has made his fortune in development around Thule. Could happen.

The roses—some of them, at least—are growing sideways and out through the lantana that is now reaching more than 3’ in height. The pyracantha berries are reddened, the mums that I stomped into the high grass two years ago are bloomed, and the loropetalums are well over my head. Could easily believe it a false spring around here.

On cue, Max just grabbed up his squeaky duck and chased about with it. Fall, that’s right. He’s not likely to be much of hunting dog given his aversion to loud noises. Nor am I likely to train him to be much more than an over-sized house hound.

Maybe we could issue handguns to everyone 18 and over and firearms deaths would decrease, which would raise life-expectancy averages. Seems counterintuitive, I know, but given some of what I read—perhaps.

Of course, I have the time—and the all-important inclination—to follow through on stories in print or via the internet. Whenever there is some kind of dust-up, I read the counter-arguments, listen to the entire lecture or speeches, and scratch my head. A lot.

I am ever grateful not to have to offer up an opinion—few of mine are conclusive anyway. Self-aware, in a way, because I was just recounting to a former student how a former principal once confronted me in the hall with the following observation: “Your problem is you ask questions about things no one thinks about.” Oh, I can ask, Ba-bee! Told her it was one of my proudest moments.

Chatty.

Okay, let me stick my neck out. Someday a good-sized asteroid is going to hit the earth. I guarantee it. Not as bold as the first human to eat a raw oyster, but there you have it.

Be well, enjoy the cooler weather, and wear a sturdy helmet. You have been warned.

Yours, srk

Joaquin Walks, Floods Reign

Dear Maria,

Has ever half an inch of rain in the gauge looked so puny? Yes, more rain this weekend—even flash flooding warnings in some of the worst of the flooded areas in the Midlands. Here, not so much. Mercifully.

Thanks for checking on me. Once again I was in the right spot during a very trying time, and of course it is not nearly finished for so many. People displaced, pets displaced, buildings displaced, roads and bridges displaced. A billion dollar disaster, and no hurricane.

When the first track predictions were made, I dutifully filled up the truck and bought enough water and food to last Max and me five days.  While I was getting gas, a very pregnant woman—like at any moment—was filling up her car as she drank a sports drink. I could only think of a recent ad campaign and that those featured athletes should be kneeling around her, chanting “We are not worthy”.

Then the rain predictions—well, really didn’t register to be honest. Turned out to be spot on in terms of amounts, but only the lower reaches along the back of the neighborhood saw homes flooded. Maybe a dozen or so. Total for the main event here was 21.75” of rain, but the Wednesday before we had a late afternoon downpour that put 1.5” in the gauge, and then another 2” before the crush of water came.

The japonicas and tea olives are grown a foot this week, and the roses, which were already spiking upward, and the lanatana are blooming wildly. Heavily watered, and the fall growth spurt. 

A thousand-year flood, they say. How many times did we hear long-time residents say over and over that they had never seen anything like it—flooding where never before.  No doubt some folks will never return to their homes. If they can.

People did what they could for each other. And then they did even more. How often—paradoxically—we must be thrashed to come together.

I read that the remnants of Joaquin rained on Spain and Portugal this weekend. Just now realized as I look at the bird feeder that I haven’t of late seen any small birds. Crows, yes, and I hear the hawk from time to time.

As Max and I came around the final turn for home this morning, I realized that this last dose of rain changed the landscape yet again. Yards and street littered with yellow leaves. Snow is forecast for the upper sections of the Northeast at the end of the week. I would prefer not to think what the 1 in 1000 winter event would be here.

Hope all is well for you and your family. Here’s to clearer skies ahead. For a long time.

Yours,

srk