The Lovers

The weather in North Carolina at this time of year is unpredictable, at best. It can be 29 degrees in the morning, with frost covering the lawns, and by noon it’s 60, and spring like. Often, by 5 PM, it can get as high as 80! With these fluctuations come unpredictable things, such as sudden late afternoon rainstorms. Just like the one we had the other day. And after the rain has ended there is usually a chill in the air.

That’s how I believe she got there, racing ahead of the storm and looking for a safe place for herself and her lover.

Then she spied it- the flapping doorway to warmth and shelter. It was on the side of a house, located in an ordinary sub-division, in an ordinary town. She made a bee line for it, just as the first peals of thunder were making themselves known, with the wind beginning to gust, almost in verification of her fears.

He followed her inside the flapping doorway, a bit afraid to go too far, but also afraid of letting her go in alone. And then again, there was the storm to consider. Best to get inside and stay warm and dry.

He lost sight of her almost immediately, as she charged in ahead of him and into the darkness, further than he would have dared. He stopped following, waiting to hear her call to him, but no sound came. He waited until sunup the following day, when he could see a bit more inside.

His heart was racing as he trod the path she had taken only hours before. Where could she have gone? Surely she would not have left him. They had been together for quite a while, and the thought of her sudden disappearance was unthinkable to him. Still, he ventured further inside the darkness which belied the full daylight he was leaving behind.

That’s when he found her, lying on her side, at the bottom of the shaft, cold and dead to the touch. Still, he called to her, as if his song could awaken her from this slumber.

And that’s when I first heard the commotion, dismissing it as some slight annoyance, which, given time, would go away. But the mysterious sounds continued , until, no longer able to concentrate, I was obliged to go and investigate the matter.

The sounds were coming from the area of the laundry room, within the walls it seemed, at first. But soon I realized that the commotion was coming from inside of the dryer vent tube, that long cylindrical coil that lets the heat escape from the appliance. I had to take the door off of its hinges and move the dryer out to get to it.

Using a screwdriver to loosen the coil, I had Sue standing by with a pillowcase. Unhooking the coil and removing it I was struck by two things; the first was the beautiful blue bird with brown chest feathers, obviously dead; and the second thing, her lover, now silent as he watched me through the opening. He was almost relieved to have someone there, to share in his grief.

We took the cold and silent bird outside for burial in the garden flowerbed, which has not yet begun to bloom. When we went back into the house, her partner was flitting from room to room, searching for a way out. Opening the sliding doors to the rear of the house, I gently followed him, herding him towards the outdoors. After he was safely out of the house we interred his lost lover in the flower bed. This was sad enough, but the worst was yet to come.

Several hours later, while writing this story, I went outside to photograph the place where we had buried the beautiful blue bird. And there, on the branch of a nearby tree, sat her lover, gazing at the spot where we had buried his heart.

Under the Weather

I'm under the weather again; or still; not sure which is the more correct application. I was looking around for some old posts to rest of the week with, and I came up with an interesting surprise. I always get sick this time of year.

Apparently, in this post from 2010, all I could do was snap a picture of the clouds in the sky and write the following 3 sentences;

I'm feeling a bit under the weather today. So I'm taking the day off to finish a good book. Talk at you all tomorrow.

Well, it's 4 years later and once again I am just finishing a book for next Monday; as always; and I've got another one to start about an exhibit in Coney Island in 1905 for the following week. So I guess it's just a case of the same old thing, just a different year. Hope everyone is warm and well fed.

"Washed Away" by Geoff Williams (2013)

It’s quite a coincidence that Geoff Williams new book “Washed Away”; the story of the Great Flood of 1913; should have been released in the weeks before the recent blizzard that crippled most of the northeastern portion of our nation. Why? Because that storm in 1913 was just about a mirror image of the one that we just experienced.

On March 23, 1913 a dozen tornadoes struck the Ohio Valley region and beyond, to 13 additional states from Arkansas to Vermont, with a ferocity rarely seen then, or; until recently; since. Over 700 deaths resulted from the flooding and the storms which followed. Blizzards in the Midwest also complicated matters, with the resultant melting snow swelling the banks of the Mississippi at the rate of 1 foot per hour the following month, as the snows melted. Of course, this water could not be used to drink, or cook with, until it had been boiled.

And speaking of fire to boil water; there were fires raging everywhere as gas lines ruptured and whole sections of towns burned while standing in the midst of water. There was simply no way to pump water on the fires to extinguish them.

Livestock perished; whole downtown areas of major cities such as Dayton, Ohio were completely submerged; and people walked across rooftops, on telephone wires, makeshift rafts, and any way in which they could get around in order to gather whatever food they could find.

Communications were still in the age of telephone and telegraph wires, which, strung on poles, did not do much good as the poles snapped like matchsticks in the fierce winds, as well as under the weight of accumulated ice. Hard to believe; but in many areas of the country today; that scenario has not changed one bit.

Train service was non-existent in many of the states hit hardest by the flooding as bridges collapsed under; or were simply washed away; by the torrents of water cascading beneath them. So many of the stories told in this book could have been taken from the newspapers of the last few weeks, that it simply boggles the mind.

Some folks will use this book as an argument against the existence of global warming, and they are; of course; welcome to their opinion. But the most important thing about this book is the complacency shown by so many of the victims of the Great Flood of 1913, and the sheer unpreparedness of the nation to cope with that disaster. The reason that it is so important is that not much has changed in the way disasters are handled today, 100 years after the Great Flood depicted so accurately in this book by Geoff Williams.

Using every available means at his disposal; newspaper articles, diary entries, old letters, and interviews with people who experienced the event; he has given life to what was the most widespread flood in the history of America. In doing so, he has also exposed some of the weaknesses still inherent in our national preparedness for disasters of this magnitude; which seem to be occurring more often than ever. This is a timely and well written book.

A Southern Snow

We came home in the driving snow on Saturday night. That is, we were driving and it was snowing. It was a southern snow; which never seems to amount to much; yet has a profound effect on us northern transplants. It brings out the Christmas in us; notwithstanding that Christmas has passed us by already. There is a joy in remembering the bite of the cold; all the while knowing that this is just a southern snow; and as such it will be gone shortly after the sun rises in the morning.

To give you an idea of the contrast in weather we experience here in North Carolina, this is a picture of Coddle Creek Church; not 8 miles from our home; just one week ago. It an be unsettling... 

But, Midnight never seems to be fazed by these changes at all; just as long as he gets his tuna!

And the next morning - all is bright and sunny once again. A typical North Carolina snow event. And did I mentioned that it thundered?

Hurricane Irene and Hurricane Donna

Can you believe that my old neighborhood of Kings Highway/Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn is in Zone A of Hurricane Irene? I hope everyone there is safe and dry. This is what it looked like in 1960, though officially the hurricane had been downgraded prior to hitting the city. Here's a link to the weather in the old neighborhood- Zip Code 11229, if case you no longer live there.

http://www.weatherstreet.com/local_forecast_files/Brooklyn-NY-11229.htm

The first hurricane I remember in Brooklyn was in 1960 and was called Hurricane Donna. It rained and howled for about 12 hours, then the skies opened up blue and fresh. There might have been a rainbow - but I'm not sure. Then it got dark again as the second half passed over. The funny thing is that Hurricane Donna formed on August 28th, 1960 and hit the east coast of the US at the tip of the Florida Keys, turning Northward on just about the exact path of this Hurricane Irene. Although it was a hurricane when it made landfall, by the time it hit New Jersey it was really just a tropical storm. But it was my first awarenwss of a hurricane at all, and so to me will always count as the first for me.

This is the boardwalk in Coney Island at 10 AM this morning - waiting for the rain...

Contrasts

This is the thermometer on my back porch at 6 PM today. It's not the humidity- it's the heat!


This was the thermometer on my back porch just 6 months ago! I am still debating which one is worse.

Snow - The Next Day

This is the street in front of my home this morning. The 6" of snow from yesterday has been replaced by a coating of ice, which will melt later, but in the meantime has everybody slowing down a bit, taking time for that extra cup of coffee while the cars warm up.


This is the backyard at 8 AM this morning. The second wave of freezing rain came through late yesterday night and covered everything with a sheen of ice. It's pretty if you can stay inside and enjoy it.

A Short Drive In the Snow

I took a short drive to Huntersville and back this afternoon, mainly to get a battery for my old car, but also to look at the snow. These 2 photos were taken on Poplar Tent Road at about 4:30 PM, less than a half an hour ago. The snow has stopped and the sleet and freezing rain is set to begin....

The White Stuff - 6" and More On the Way

Woke up to the predicted 6" of snow. More is on the way, with freezing rain and sleet by the evening. So, I'm taking the day off to read, relax and probably do nothing.


This is my street at 7AM. When the sleet begins, with the freezing rain, this will all become a sheet of ice. Kind of humbling in a way. 2 wheels, 4 wheels, they're all nothing when pitted against the forces of nature. A great day to slow down. Stay warm!

It Was A White Christmas

This is my house last night. It looks so much warmer and cozier with all the snow. We only got a few inches. But it was just enough to remind me of how pretty it can be. And with the grandkids in for the holidays, it makes everything seem perfect.


And this is our street this morning, still lightly snowing, turning the whole vista into a softly hued Christmas card. Sometimes, it just all works out that way...

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

Snow - A Simple Pleasure

It snowed here last night. We got about 5-7" depending on where you stand or who you believe. The neighborhood looks softer and the houses don't look so much alike when it snows.

The sounds are muffled and the birds are hiding somewhere. It's a nice way to wake up, you can hear the silence of the snow even before you look out the window.

It was like that even in Brooklyn when I was growing up. The snow ameliorates the rough edges of the world. It should probably snow more often.