I went next door and had some champagne for a mutual friend’s birthday – she’s 45 – seems young. Anyway, we ate cream puffs from Angelo Brocato’s and drank my favorite champagne, La Reve, and then we went on the porch and felt the gulf breeze blowing and as we stood on the porch, we saw a SUV drive onto the bayou and steal Helen’s chairs. The birthday girl called out brazenly, hey, what are you doing? And the thief/vigilante yelled back, “these chairs shouldn’t be on the bayou” – the light reflecting off the water was surreal as the lightning lit up the black sky and rain fel into ripples that were so many it was hard to discern where they stopped and started. We looked over by the canoe tied to the bank and there was a thick night heron, walking slowing along the concrete retaining wall. In the midst of this breathtaking beauty, there was a slight movement towards indignation that someone would steal WalMart plastic chairs right under our noses, but in the end, all that was shown was false bravado and a resignation that we live in the most beautiful place on the planet and were out of champagne.