Aqueduct in Point Pleasant, PA 2 Sept 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel
Filled to the Brim
No matter where you look, it seems we’re filled to the brim. Our creeks and rivers are overflowing with water. Our forests are filled with the hot fury of fire. Our hearts are filled with shock, rage, fear, and hopefully, equal or greater measures of love, compassion, and hope.
I don’t have a lot to say tonight.
I’m always amazed at the brilliance of the blue skies the morning after a storm of great fury, be it a blizzard or a hurricane. Your average, run-of-the-mill snowstorm or rain event can come and go and the next day the skies may retain their cranky gray visage. But not following a storm of great consequence.
Just like a mother who has bitten her tongue one too many times, Mother Nature occasionally unleashes the accumulation of atmospheric energy and clears the decks. She withholds nothing. She lets us have it. And then, forgiving and forward-looking, she lets it all go and moves on. The sparkling clarity left behind is her gift to us.
A reminder that no matter how dark and furious things can get, the sun does come out again. The skies do clear. The air once again becomes breathable and invigorating.
Tohickon Creek at Point Pleasant – Photo: L. Weikel
Around Us
I only ventured out a few miles from our home today. So many roads were – and remain – closed. I’ve yet to get a glimpse of the Lenape Sipu (Delaware River). But I did manage to sneak a peak at where my beloved Tohickon Creek flows into the Delaware in Point Pleasant.
It looks like the power of the Tohickon pulled some boards off the aqueduct that crosses over it just before the creek merges with the river. Just standing on the bridge to take the photo, I could feel the power of the churning waters below me.
As can be seen below, water simply cascading down the hill without a discernible path to follow pounded the roadway so relentlessly that it caused it to buckle.
River Road, Point Pleasant, PA – Photo: L. Weikel
Carrying On
It’s shocking to consider that we were only hit with the ‘remnants’ of Hurricane Ida. My mind reels at the plight of those who were scathed by nature’s fury not only here – in devastating loss of life and home – but even more so in Louisiana, Mississippi, and elsewhere down south. I cannot imagine enduring temperatures where the heat index is reaching 107 during the day and yet there remains no running water, no electricity (and therefore no air conditioning), no lights at night, and little hope of anything being restored anytime soon.
How does one carry on in that situation? Blue skies surely can’t be enough. Or maybe they can be. When we’ve lost everything, maybe blue skies – and the intangible hope they reflexively bring us – are precisely what our souls require.
Tangle of wildflowers & white butterflies – Photo: L. Weikel
(T-85)