Nature is unrelenting
My last entry sent me towards Wordsworth and the contemplation of material versus nature, but after a day in the weightiness of New Orleans oppressive heat I have to step back and say sometimes nature is not so comforting as a Wordsworthian poem might represent.
Tin is a sweater, beads of perspiration appear on his lip if he even looks at the front door and yesterday he was sweating like an athlete. I poured some of my cool water on his neck and back while we were sitting in the shade to cool him down and to amuse him (he was not amused).
We were both sweating and I was trying to keep him from the harsh sun, but in the shade we joined the winged bugs (bees included – BEES as Tin yelled) who were hovering in the shade seeking their own respite from the oven-like quality of full sun.
Everyone here in the Gulf South knows Mother Nature is not so benevolent. I write this from my screen porch this Sunday morning – the heat tolerable with the ceiling fan on – my New York Times has not shown up yet – and there is a bluebird perched high in the crepe myrtle, whose leaves are just starting to turn towards fall. Do you know that leaves die, they don’t change colors and fall, they die in the cycle of seasons. The striped banana tree looks almost dwarfed in its growth as it struggled to return from the multiple freezes we saw last winter – will it be harsh again (a friend writes that the almanac predicts yes).
Nature is not so kind – maybe the lot of humans is to toil – to make things and throw things away and then make some more – maybe that is our business, while nature’s business is to constantly keep us mere mortals guessing and cowered and in awe of her majesty.