Monday, October 22, 2007

A Prayer for California






From "Water Table," by Billy Collins



. . .water. . . falling on our bare shoulders,

water filling the inlets of out mouths,

water in a pot on the stove. . .



24 comments:

Nancy P said...

To help them through the night.

See in you in the morning.

boran2 said...

Thanks, have a good night, Nancy.

Larry Kollar said...

Yes. We finally have some rain here on Planet Georgia, praying that California can get some too.

Anonymous said...

My prayers too -

katiebird said...

I heard on the radio that EVERYONE in Southern California is at risk -- That evacuations could happen anywhere.

My prayers are with them all.

Family Man said...

My prayers are there too.

Nancy P said...

Hi, guys.

Boran2, I know you probably won't see this until later, but you're not in SoCal, are you?

Rain On Planet Georgia, yay!!

Last night I dreamed I was wandering around an area in Kansas City that burned down last year (that block in Waldo, kb). I had a leaf blower with me, turned off. I woke up thinking, huh? And then I thought, well, I guess I must really want to have the power to turn the hot air off!!

What's up with you guys who, like me, feel pretty lucky today?! I'm going to type up that draft of my short story, which will automatically mean rewriting.

Family Man said...

Morning Nancy.

Boran is in the NE. I think I remember that fire you were talking about. If it was the one that was near KB. I remember her blogging about ,and a bunch of us were shooting comments to her. If that's the same fire.

Have fun typing up your first draft.

Nancy P said...

That was another fire, fm. Closer to where kb lives.

I *am* looking forward to my work today, thanks.

dada said...

this triggered a synapse that lead tp a jobim composition:

Águas de Março: waters of march, a classic bossa nova.

writers have their words, l have the music, it is the healing force of the universe.

Nancy P said...

Hi, dada. Thank you for dropping by with such beautiful gifts. Did you happen to hear "This American Life" on NPR this past Sunday? There was a fellow who hears the music in ordinary sounds and turns it into compositions. It was amazing and wonderful. It makes me wonder what kind of music he could make from those incredible sounds of the fires.

Jas said...

Over one million people sit in hotels, homes of friends, sports arenas... all wondering if their homes (pets, in some cases) will be standing in a few days. The days following Hurricane Katrina when for three days I sat in a hotel and then another two weeks in the home of a friend (and then a week-long workshop under hurricane Ophelia, then another week with a friend and another two weeks in the home of a stranger under Hurricane Rita, for a total of eight weeks in all....) and hour by hour we thought mostly of Home. We'd located most friends by that point, but we had no word on homes, bridges, favorite coffee shops, our amazing parks, the entire infrastructure. Tonight and for a few nights in our country over a million people wait and watch. It's no fun. I just read that firefighters have given most of the fires over to nature hoping for the winds to die down. Ironically, we just received (in Louisville) a record 24-hour rainfall. You'd think we could get some of this over there.

Larry Kollar said...

I linked this picture over at Olivia's blog (a report from San Diego), but the text is appropriate considering was jscs said:

"The street is lined with trash and recycling that went uncollected. Many businesses and services are not running at full capacity because close to ten percent of the population have been evacuated from their homes."

Ten percent, displaced nearby, and already things are getting neglected. Not good.

katiebird said...

Oh, Gosh. We've got such a fragile hold on normal.

olivia said...

Yep ... thin line between normal and all out panic. I noticed that when we had the gasoline scare last year.

GhostFolk.com said...

Beth's Adventures: Our own smiley Beth has a beautiful family forest fire survival at her blog today.

dada: Very very very nice! I want to know about Jobim's lyric:
A pass in the mountains,
A horse and a mule,
In the distance the shelves
rode three shadows of blue


Until the darkness lifts its veil, there'll be blue, blue shadows on the trail...

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the plug, ghost! :-)

Nancy P said...

Hi, Jason. Brings back memories for you, no kidding. So poignant to read about how people forced from home wonder, not just about their own places, but about all the other things that make a place "home."

far, I like that photo, too. Like so many photos from the fire, it's beautiful in its own way. Those blue bins. . .there's a "blue" theme this morning, what with the photo and ghost's post.

Now I'm off to Beth's place, and kb's, and olivia's, Hi! Hi! Hi! :) and the other familiar spots that make me appreciate our virtual, not wood and paper, world! (Knucklehead, where are you?)

Anonymous said...

Hey Jason! Good to see you stopping by. It's like the old adage, how grateful would you be if you lost everything you had, and then got it back again?

Hope Louisville is feeling more like 'home' to you these days. Enjoy the rain -

GhostFolk.com said...

My feet are wet from thinking this thing over.

A happier southwest, complete with singing horses:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_BwGy3jpBs

Anonymous said...

Head just left a comment on my blog - says all is fine there!!!

PHEW!!!!! What a relief.

Nancy P said...

Yay!! Thanks Beth!!!

Now I'm off to speak to a book club made up entirely of writers. I hope they give me a HUGE cup of coffee.

Anonymous said...

Good luck and enjoy, Nancy!

Anonymous said...

FYI, Knucklehead just posted on his blog, if you're looking for more details about what's going on in his world.