Five days ago I took this picture of the vinca flowering in our backyard in the shade of our favorite fir tree:
Last night we had our second power outage in a row during another weird heavy wet snowfall.
They’re saying all the tree species have to be shifted northward to survive climate change. That now we should be planting Redwoods where we live. So this morning I held part of my breath hoping our favorite fir tree that has grown so much with us while we’ve lived here would only get stronger because of the heavy snow weighing it down again, and not be broken by all of the insane shifting weather – drought and ice and heat domes and bullshit on top of our normal heavy winds here — it has endured in recent years. It stressed me out to see it sagging this morning, tilting farther away from the edge of our yard on the side where they decimated over an acre of trees leaving us more exposed to wind (and smoke and noise) from that direction.
I lit candles for my wife to see to go up and down our treacherous staircase, and in the kitchen to make coffee by candlelight in order to leave for work in the four o’clock hour:
She had to use a lighter to fire up the gas range to boil water for her french press:
She promised she would drive very slowly and text me when she got there.
When I knew she’d arrived safely, I finally went back to sleep. Dreaming of my heating pad coming back on, and grateful for all of our good fortune we so often take for granted.
Lights, power, heat, warm food, navigable roadways. The check I deposited before my phone ran out of juice, and the bills we are able to pay on time because of it (and knowing the world will not end just because it can’t cover all of the other ones that will just have to be late this month).
The metal roof above me being pummeled with melting cannonballs of slushy snow falling from the pecker poles’ strong treetops.
Recent Comments