Tempest

 July 29, 2026

Putting things back together after the spectacular storm that struck last night at dusk, the worst we’ve seen since Helene. The power failed early on, and stayed off until morning. The man at Sav-Mor said the power was off for twelve hours. I hadn’t thought until I heard him that an inconvenience for me was a catastrophe for him, with all those booths of frozen food thawing into mush. I called him because of a tree I believe to be on their property leaning crazily above the wires. Will probably discover it was on my property all the while (despite being outside the fence). Reset the pond motor. It’s always so slow to show progress that I don’t know yet if the reset was successful. On phone and email read a half dozen warnings and notices about severe weather, including a tornado warning. I heard the ghostly tornado sirens, the second time since 1983 that I’ve done so. One scoffs at tornadoes in the mountains, but one scoffed once a hurricanes, too. Went upstairs and painted until the light was wholly too low. When the rain stopped I sat on the porch and took in the night, there being nothing else to do. With all lights off, the night is luminous, the south cleared enough that the full moon lent almost-day glory to the garden and the street. It was quite beautiful, the white flowers, hydrangea, hibiscus, startling in the dim, the red flowers so bright they showed their colors. Drank Valpolicella and had one of my out-of-the-body sessions. Minutes of bliss, hard to recollect or justify afterwards. I know that to dwell in the present room of my life brings peace. What I don’t know is if I’m meant to seek peace, or victory in the battles that I believe have been set before me. 

From the attic window it seems the sky is clouding up again. With all that should be tended to, the Republicans are grilling Fauci on a diary he kept ten years ago. The Republican Party is driven by nothing but the thirst for power without responsibility, and for revenge. Should I sit in the dark and look at my flowers? The Leaden Voice whispers, “What else can you do?”

Finally listening to the whole of Akhenaton. Dear God, how did people sit through that? I hope all the singers were naked.