Info

to do. to see. to hear. to love

photo 3last week i drove from olympia to colorado. i needed to go back and see it all for myself. i was nervous as i drove into town and down 34. there were road blocks, but i drove around them, heading into the path of destruction. it hit me like a ton of bricks, seeing the debris piled on the side of the road, huge trees laying in the river. the only people using the road were workers and people whom obviously lived out that way. i started crying, my stomach was turning upside down. i was nervous, i was confused to see this place change.  when i pulled onto the property i knew what to expect from photos, but it just felt weird. i couldn’t cry anymore, i couldn’t feel much of anything but shock. it just was not the same place. the sun was shining so bright, you could feel the autumn change in the sun. it was a vast difference from the gloomy afternoons we had had all summer. it was as though everything was constipated and it exploded with massive amounts of rain, leaving behind destruction and sunny blue skies. the least mother nature could have done was to get a colonic if she was that backed up. just kidding, but not really.

i walked around the property taking it all in with little feeling- it seems in times of tragedy it feels so unreal to me that i dont know what to feel. the concord grapes were still there and you could smell there sweetness in the hot autumn sun. my neighbor had come out with a volunteer. i walked across the newly built dirt road to the other side of the  river and entered a war zone. or maybe a movie set. that is what it felt like. my neighbors houses were under sand. we could walk right on to the roof. cars buried in sand, propane tanks on tops of trees. dead fish tangled in the mess of debris, and random bits of houses just hanging out. laura has started digging their way out finding a small amount of their previous items.  they plan to take the roof off and dig their way down.

i have never witnessed a disaster first hand. i have come close twice now. ( i was suppose to fly to nyc the day after septemeber 11) and this is the first time i have seen anything like this in person. though i lost nothing, my memories feel bruised. after about 30 minutes i just couldn’t look at it anymore. later that night i kept wanting to go back, to make sure it was all real. i wasn’t sure where to put my memories. the sight of it all was overpowering my time there. i am sure it will for a while. for now, i seem to just be trucking along, making jokes about the tragedy, because it is the only way i know how to deal with it. i wasn’t even sure how to post this- i didn’t want to keep harping on it, but it seemed only fitting to tell the truth. i write this from nyc now, a whole different world from my cabin on the river. hanging out in hipsterville of williamsburg makes me realize how lucky i was to have that time there.

i also just want to say thank you for all your kind comments and for reading. thank you.
photo 5 photo 2 photo 2 photo 1 photo 2 photo 4 photo 1 photo 1 photo 2 photo 3 photo 4

Advertisements

Comments

8 Comments

Post a comment
  1. October 24, 2013

    I also live in Colorado, but thankfully wasn’t affected by the floods where I live. Many of my friends have been affected and it is definitely a terrible thing! My prayers and thoughts go out to you and I hope that your house and home can be recovered quickly. Thank you for sharing your loss. I know it can be hard to share that with others, but at least we can possibly help! Good luck with everything! It will all be better soon!

  2. October 22, 2013

    So sorry for your loss.

  3. October 14, 2013

    Wow. Just wow. It is all I can muster up.

  4. October 13, 2013

    Congratulations!

    I nominated your blog for the Sunshine Award. If you chose to accept it please read more about this here. http://gonewiththelind.wordpress.com/2013/10/12/sunshine-award/ I really enjoy your blog and look forward to catching up on it more. Cheers!

  5. October 8, 2013

    All the things look simply fantastic. Looking forward to following your blog (: Cheers, Savannah
    bloggingsavvy.wordpress.com

  6. October 7, 2013

    wow – it boggles the mind – all that destruction, but the tomato cages still stand? Eerie. I don’t know how you process it, except by how you are – talk about it, look at it, keep in touch with people, look at photos of before, and try to keep those memories from being erased by the new.

    Nearly impossible, I would say.

  7. October 7, 2013

    Those pictures are so brutal–unfathomable, really. And it must be 1000 times worse to see it in person and to have such a personal connection with the place. I hope those still there can get their lives back . . .

  8. October 7, 2013

    What a power Mother Nature has. So sad, but thank you for sharing this.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Basic HTML is allowed. Your email address will not be published.

Subscribe to this comment feed via RSS