Approaching Storms

It is mid afternoon & the skies are beginning to cloud over.  Everything is still & it is eerily cool outside here in the swamp.

A severe thunderstorm is on its way & I hope it does not damage the tomatoes or the emerging plants in the garden.

Like the birds darting in & out of the trees, I am restless.

So I make a decision & go outside, thunder rumbling in the background, & scatter red corn for the squirrels & fill the bird feeder.

The remains of the cannas Jean planted over forty years ago are blooming, sheltering a wonderful palm that has grown up among them from our neighbor’s yard.

And I wonder about the approaching storm.  Not the approaching severe thunderstorm, but the repercussions of the approaching election.

Will that storm nurture the good that has been planted in our nation or ravage & annihilate it beyond restoration? 

Anticipating the severe thunderstorm facing much of the swamp area, I cut some gardenia blossoms & roses for Jean.   In case the storm annihilates them, leaving bare bushes.

If only I could cut what I believe to be fine & good about our nation & keep it safe.

Looking out at the sky, watching the darkness descends, I am convinced that both storms will be severe & altering.

I am just not sure whether the bushes will be bare or still blossoming.

The rain & wind have arrived.