Where you’ll find me
Even though our thoughts have turned to foreign shores, last night we sat and talked about our plans on the front porch. We rocked and looked at the bayou, the golden glow of lights from the houses softly falling on the water. There were streaks of gold, streaks of purple, streaks of white as no one has the same light or bulb on their front porch so the striations in the water were all different. There was a nice breeze blowing and other than the mosquitos, you might believe this a picture perfect paradise.
Strangers were sitting at my neighbor’s table that is left on the bayou for anyone to enjoy.
Then this morning, I rode my bike through City Park and along the bayou towards Lake Ponchartrain. The bayou expands past the I-10 and grows more wild while the houses get larger and larger and newer and newer. I don’t know the history of why once passed DeSaix the houses are not historic anymore. I do know that this area flooded during Katrina and perhaps that is the reason, that people long ago figured out what was high land and what was low land and that’s why Mayor Pitot built his house right across the Magnolia Bridge, where they did not take on water during the levee failure of 2005.
There was a gentle breeze in the air this July morning and the air was cool. There were plenty of runners and bikers along the path. A man had pulled over his company truck and stood in his nice work clothes feeding bread crumbs to about thirty ducks who had gathered from the bayou. Another man had cast his rod and reel off the Filmore Avenue Bridge. People having figured out their own path to happiness.
Cruising back through the park and popping out at Esplanade Avenue, I heard the trolley coming to a stop in front of P.G.T. Beauregard’s statue and had sense of peace about this place I call home … how breezy it is to live in the Big Easy … the words haunting me from Goodnight NOLA being read one too many times as it is Tin’s new favorite.