The yard seems eerily still this afternoon. Nothing stirs, other than the occasional flock of Yellow-rumped Warblers foraging in the wax myrtle.
They chirp softly to each other as they feed, and their muffled voices make me feel as if I should speak in a whisper.
It’s a perfect afternoon to crawl under a warm blanket, call the cats to join me, and lose myself in a new book.
Yesterday, I flew home through the southern-most remnants of Hurricane Sandy. The flight was a bit bumpy, though not as rough as I had anticipated. I went to bed early and slept late this morning, then meant to spend much of my day in the yard, which is cluttered with knotweed and wind-torn leaves. But as I knelt in a patch of damp grass, acutely aware of the contrast between the yard’s October-cold ground and a breezy sky full of summer-warm sunshine, I changed plans.
The ocean was restless, tossing sets of foaming waves onto a beach swept flat and clean. I watched as a ship pulled out of the Chesapeake Bay, and I hoped that it was headed north, carrying help to areas devastated by Sandy.
Trying to distract myself from overwhelming images of flooding and destruction, I spent the next half-hour photographing pelicans.
Eventually, my phone chimed an appointment reminder, which I barely heard over the ocean’s tumble and growl.
My route to the appointment carried me past First Landing State Park, so I stopped for a quick glance at the Chesapeake Bay.
(That’s the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, in the background.)
I only stayed about fifteen minutes, and in that short time clouds swallowed the sun. I assumed these clouds were related to the storm, or to the cold front that fed its monstrous transformation into a super-storm. Either way, I returned to my car with a heavy heart, helplessly small and weak under such a beautiful, terrible sky.
The weather turned cold, cloudy, and windy today, just in time for the Jack Daniel’s 2012 World Championship Invitational Barbeque. I enjoyed wandering through the tents and shops with one of my dearest friends, who didn’t mind waiting while I photographed some of the 4-H club’s petting zoo animals and a bluebird foraging in a nearby field.
Our return trip wandered through the center of Fayetteville and along many of the back roads I knew by heart when I was younger.
The autumn leaves were beautiful today, but it’s hard to focus on trees when there are rockets and a Space Shuttle in the background.
During my college years at The University of Alabama in Huntsville, I grew accustomed to a landscape that included space vehicles. Today, standing at the foot of the original Saturn V lunar rocket, I experienced a wave of renewed awe.
(Photos taken at the U.S. Space and Rocket Center.)
Rae Spencer 