Back to the land

Back at the cabin my heart is strangely still day after day as I plow through the difficulties of no power and no internet and no phone and see the devastation. Sometimes waking in the morning the sadness is palpable--pure sensation and I stay with it until it fades and then with a quiet heart get up to take care of business.

Looking up is always a shock--a brown world of dead oak leaves and black tree trucks--a world painted in sepia--a patch here and there of green grass. The fawn lilies seem quite happy and the trillium are blooming. Ferns are up through the bare ground and lots of berry shoots, but nothing can diminish the loss of 3000 acres of woods.

My house and yard are the least touched. Friends say cheery things like it will green up in a few years, expecting this to relieve my mind. But I am touching what is and that truth remains the anchor of my fire stormed and very quiet heart.