A whomping summer storm pounds through: sustained winds of 40 knots and gusts up to fifty in places. So much water is filling everything left out, with it’s mouth turned up. See the photo of my wheelbarrow above.
The wind blew so hard that it shredded the leaves off the alder trees and made a scattered puzzle on our deck, and dog toys and deck chairs all tumbled to the beach before we got up and rescued them before they floated away.
Sunday my buddies played music under shelter at the “be ak” cafe downtown, as is the tradition we sat at least six feet apart, Ted wore his mask and I started out with my yellow slicker on but took it off as the rain when it blew in sluiced down onto my mandolin. I drank two cups of hot tea and ate a delicious breakfast sandwich (with double bacon) so I stayed warm and happy. The air was rather warm and the waves rising in the harbor complimented the acoustic music well. Ernie, the bass player was in town for a job with his landing craft. He was supposed to pick up a Forest Service Crew but was happy with the storm saying, “When it storms this hard and there is no emergency, there is no problem, you don’t have to worry about your decision. You just don’t go. Storm like this, You stay home and play music. He smiled and drank more coffee and sang another song.
There is no inside service at the cafe but still many people came down in their rain gear, enjoyed the music and sipped their hot drinks. The doughnuts are the best around, One gust blew our cups off the table and what was left of my sandwich. Dot was on a walk with a friend or she would have loved the craziness of food blowing around.
I love storms too, They are strong expressions. Passionate. Some emotions call for full orchestras and kettle drums, symphonies, or manifestoes, not just a single flute in a meadow or a haiku. Sometimes there are delicate love ballades and then there are raging heavy metal anthems. As the season winds towards fall the more the weather rages here. It’s best do get your business on the water done before the storms come…. but still I love the passion and the music.
The storms thin out the brittle or the rotten trees. They are good for fertilizer anyway. Smaller, more supple trees know how to bend.
Picasso was once asked why he thought Paris was the center of the Art world durning his life. He said, “The Orange naturally comes to the Orange Tree, never the Apple.” Which I think is something only Picasso could get away with saying with a straight face.
But I love that quote and I think of it often. I often think it just means that the world knows what it’s doing. That Paris was the center of the art world then because it was just naturally the most creative place to be at the time. Oranges came to the Orange tree and the world wanted Oranges, so naturally the art coming out of Paris was tasty. The world knows what it’s doing and specific places shape specific expressions. Place shapes life.
Deer on these islands are Island deer. They grow to the right size for their habitat. So too the bears, and the fish. The world knows what it’s doing. The Orange tree is not going to spit out an Apple! Life isn’t based on some kind of whimsy.
I find this whole noting quite comforting. Even in the middle of a storm when it is tempting to imagine the world is saying something about chaos. It is in fact saying something about flexibility, durability and finding shelter.
Gulls cry through the storm
I barely hear my band play
outside the cafe.
Here is a recording of me reading one of my own essays from Ed Ricketts, from Cannary Row to Sitka, Alaska:
