August 31st


End of day, end of summer wistful. August 2011, Vermont. This picture reminds me of my assertion that we must not presume to walk the terrain of another’s heart without guidance.  We just don’t know what goes on in the head and spirit of others.  Even the glittering, which we may be privileged to glimpse from time to time, is only a tiny indication of what lives in those depths that we cannot plumb.  I find this fact both lonely and miraculous.

morning

How we found them one morning at Basin Harbor.

Irene in photographs

Grace was very anxious about the storm.  Super, super worried, constantly asking for updates.  It’s possible that her parents were talking about it too much.  I was interviewed by a reporter from ABC about the topic: article is here.
On Saturday morning we participated in the great harbor-town tradition of hauling dinghies on the day before a hurricane.

On Saturday  night the four of us went out for Chinese food.  This was my fortune.  May be my favorite fortune ever.

Sunday morning was rainy though not yet very windy.  I took Grace and Whit out for a walk around the neighborhood.  I knew we were going to be inside for most of the day and wanted them to get a little bit of exercise.  Grace was nervous, Whit and I both loved the rain and still-gentle wind (notice his hood not up).

Kaboom.  Big tree branch down right next to our house (that’s our white picket fence).  It took down power and cable lines, but blessedly ours stayed on.  The street was blocked all day and based on my unscientific survey on this morning’s run it is the worst tree-power combo in our part of town.  Another inexpert observation, because today is trash day: a lot of people spent yesterday cleaning out their basements (including us).

We were all going bananas, and the wind had let up a lot.  So off we went to Whole Foods and Home Depot, driving around checking out the damage (not much), car windows down to try to get some fresh air.

In the morning, without thinking about it, it I had said sure we can stay in our pajamas all day.  Whit held me to that promise.

And over dinner we discussed what part of Irene had been the worst.  Grace thought for a moment and said, “well, I think the worrying about it.”  Teachable moment: the anticipation is almost always worse than the reality.  I’m still trying to learn this myself.

Poppy pre hurricane

My father.  There’s nobody in the world I would rather be on a boat with in a storm than this guy.  Or in a house during a hurricane.  He knows his stuff.