Now that Matthew is no longer huffing, puffing and trying to
blow our doors down, we’ve returned to sunny tranquility.
Cool and breezy with a welcome nip.
Cool and breezy with a welcome nip.
As is often the case with insensitive thugs, Matthew left a mess
behind. Too many houses fill the street with their water-damaged first floor possessions
thrown unceremoniously into piles, ready for a ride to the dump. Long
serpentine piles of reeds and trash mark high water flood lines. Beaches are
littered with large clumps of vegetation, wave smashed tumbleweeds held
together with fishing line, clutching bits of broken Styrofoam.
We were lucky, just a bit of roof damage, now marked 24/7 by
two blowers drying the damp ceiling plywood while a refrigerator sized dehumidifier
sucks water from the air and sends it down a clear hose that runs out the
doggie door and into the yard.
It’s business as usual for us again. An omelet stuffed with
fresh spinach and sharp American with a cup of very black Colombian coffee was
on the breakfast menu for me. Chica and Rufus got bits of cheap hot dog, torn
off and lobbed in high arcs, testing their catching and sitting skills.
We all took a walk, spotting a Great Blue Heron as he caught
his breakfast sashimi in the lake shallows. A pair of Anhingas swam undetected
beneath the dark surface of the lake, heads and necks breaching suddenly like
snakes looking for heaven to save them from electrified waters. Apparently my
favorite Garden spider weathered the storm. She was back this morning for the
first time, perched in the center of a new web, anchored among the Cattails,
also enjoying breakfast in the sun, rhythmically sucking the life-juice from a
fat web-encased fly, that certainly should have chosen the road not taken.
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