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They cancelled the flights into NOLA and we were able to slip onto one at the last moment. And home we came in a plane full of Red Cross workers on their way in to deal with Isaac. New Orleans was desolate, no cars on the street, houses and businesses boarded up, and a sky that looked like it was painted on a stretched canvas.

The wetlands were Monet’s, the mighty Mississippi river belonged to Hopper and the banks to Schiele, the taxi drove ominously slow as if we were returning to where we began in some sort of funeral procession.

Our house is boarded up, the plants in the yard are psychotically overgrown from a full month of rain in July, and everything is discombobulated, including us. We stood on the porch for a moment because our neighbors were outside on all sides, and one guy was playing a banjo on the back of a pick up truck (he followed me to the grocery store, still playing), and the sky was blood red and a rainbow that didn’t quite touch doubled up on the horizon and the sun was going down in a ball of flames.

Beauty and the beast.

Isaac is supposed to sap our electricity, rain on our homecoming parade, and has already shut down the city for the next two days.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 28th, 2012 at 4:56 am and is filed under Main. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.