Hi Carole, had the sweetest dream about us, maybe college age, we under the trees on the sumpland behind my house that is being gutted for houses.
That reality brutal, I still can't imagine it even as one lot has been cleared— in the time of of sea rise— land permitted without drainage, the greed and arrogance stupendous.
Yet under the trees lovely, the shade of them. Not sure how many will remain after, maybe none.
In the dream, you won a scholarship and we were so happy, at peace. There were children in the dream, sitting in the shade with us, that perhaps hopeful.
Two years ago on this day in real time, we had major flooding. Images are posted on Pinecrest Floods http://pinecrestfloods.blogspot.com. I worked so hard to get the land reclaimed, restored. Preserved. There is an image on that site of the very spot we sat.
Now, trying to reconcile the dream of scholarship with the lowlands and its bounty, the beauty of nature, even marred after its desecration but still vital and now again trashed, no thought to keep it as green acreage, a floodplain for the pumps ahead.
You and I together, in another place — perhaps a parallel universe — twined time — before the dystopia to come.
That reality brutal, I still can't imagine it even as one lot has been cleared— in the time of of sea rise— land permitted without drainage, the greed and arrogance stupendous.
Yet under the trees lovely, the shade of them. Not sure how many will remain after, maybe none.
In the dream, you won a scholarship and we were so happy, at peace. There were children in the dream, sitting in the shade with us, that perhaps hopeful.
Two years ago on this day in real time, we had major flooding. Images are posted on Pinecrest Floods http://pinecrestfloods.blogspot.com. I worked so hard to get the land reclaimed, restored. Preserved. There is an image on that site of the very spot we sat.
Now, trying to reconcile the dream of scholarship with the lowlands and its bounty, the beauty of nature, even marred after its desecration but still vital and now again trashed, no thought to keep it as green acreage, a floodplain for the pumps ahead.
You and I together, in another place — perhaps a parallel universe — twined time — before the dystopia to come.
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