Given the hurricane of last week, I can barely recall Friday morning’s walk through the damp woods and up the top of the hill to take in the calm view of the sea to the east and the estuary to the north. The view of the wide sky and distant waterline was spectacular; a few phone photos had to be snapped to share with others in other locales later.
I do remember walking past another great bracket fungus on the descent down the broad path, content, it was, simply to be beautiful even though nothing, and no one, would be extolling its good looks except, perhaps, on a blog like this.And even if it could think, this specimen might already know it might not ever be seen. It would still be beautiful just because it was made so. It became so.
En route home from marsh that day, I passed the smallest dog I’ve ever seen in my life. Tinier than a lapdog, this microscopic dog looked like a leaf blowing in the wind tethered to a normal size human on the other end of a leash. BIG MARSH, normal human, very small dog!
Before this weekend, the land looked burnished; now it is wet and strewn as well. It’s been littered by the power of wind, the physics of air gone mad. We’ve got a tree resting on our car. Others have it much worse: hopefully not ill or injured, but very possibly without the daily, tamed power we crave. Some will be watching for what will come next; others are helping those in need; all hope for a return to their routines as soon as possible.
The election, Halloween?!, cleaning the attic, lots of big and little things are migrating to the back burner this week. I hope wherever you are the atmosphere is calm and those near you well. I know the fresh, slightly warm air we had today was not present in many places. May it reach you soon as a last breath of autumn, or, at least, may the harsh howl we just had soon flee.