I left my house this afternoon without a plastic bag to protect my things, including an incredibly rare thing–a hardcover book–that didn’t fit in my bag.   This is never a good idea in New Orleans in the summertime.  It was sunny as I headed to the gymnasium, but by the time I left, the thunder was sounding and I could see lightening in the distance.  I actually love these afternoon storms, though I think I can only love them since I’ve not been through a hurricane.  The sound doesn’t yet scare me, and I hope it never does.  I wish I’d seen New Orleans before the storm, the broken levees, the total flooding.  Who was here before?  What was here before?  What, or rather how, can I never see because all I’ve got are photographs from Before and During and Right After?  At the same time, though, I escaped something that haunts so many souls here and elsewhere, where so many are who can’t or won’t come back home.  But today I stopped quickly to snap this shot to mark that uncanny moment here where it feels like a sunny summertime but sounds and smells like a storm is coming.  Then I put my head down and pedaled hard, making it to S.’s in time to save my book.  One thing I already know about living in this place–nothing is safe.