Running into the gales

We decided to take a family run because we knew that Hurricane Gustav is on its way and we'll likely be stuck inside for a few days. So we loaded Ryan and Charlotte up in their twin baby joggers and David, Ryan, Charlotte, the dog, Riley, and I headed out the door. Everyone in our neighborhood is home. Some are sawing away limbs that could get ripped off during the storm. Others are doing yard work so that they don't have to deal with it in the inevitable growth spurt that will occur after the storms. Others are just outside chatting with neighbors, something you don't see much these days with everyone always searching for that third space where they can gather, away from home. The sun is hot. Sweltering is one of my favorite words, but not the best running condition. We pushed the joggers, which felt like they weighed about 200 lbs. each. Riley's tongue came unhinged in her mouth, so we took that as an excuse to linger once in awhile. I wondered if the few birds we saw overhead knew what is coming. People are chatty today. They linger in their front yards, yearning for the community that seems such an afterthought when you've got a potential community of the entire world on the Web. But we all know that if the power goes out, all we've got is the place where we live. That's our community. It's always true, of course. It's just that we don't realize it. I am, over and over again, surprised at the festive atmosphere that precedes big storms. We all know the horrid things that can happen. If we didn't know it before Katrina, we know it now. But, still, there is this smiley, loopy, punch drunk feeling in the air. You could cut it. In college, I remember studying war literature. What is it about war literature that is so great? It's that, in war, you have to live in the here and now. Everything is so intense and crystallized. Death and destruction are accompanied by moments of sheer beauty and connection. It's all a mixed bag. I think it is true on the eve of storms. At the lake, a neighbor's dog runs headlong to the water and leaps in. The boxer's strong, long legs stroke through the water and his mouth gapes in a big grin. We feed the ducks and feel the sweat run down our legs and arms. Today is sunny. Today we are all here together. Let's celebrate.