The wind is warm outside. My neighbors are playing cards at Zula with other neighbors, and dogs are sniffing in brand new spots, according to their owners. Almost everything is closed. I spotted three open restaurants, one jogger resuming his training, and approximately ten people wandering around checking things out, just like me.
I went for a very fast post-hurricane walk from my apartment building (on Main Street) to Bushnell Park and back. I've been in my apartment with my boyfriend since midnight on Friday, when we walked home the mile from Firebox. We walked under the Solider's Memorial Arch that night and I wondered how the park would hold up through the impending storm. Would we be memorializing anything else anytime soon?
Since then, we've made coffee, egg wraps, guacamole, pasta with gorgonzola basil sauce, brownies, several bowls of cereal, vegetable tikka masala, and a couple of Dark n'Stormies. I finished a book and started a new one, wrote a short essay, talked to my parents on the phone, ran 100 flights of stairs in my apartment, cleaned the place, did some freelance writing, and watched some TV. In short, we've had a peaceful and productive weekend. Waiting out a storm seems like such a quiet thing to do while the earth is in such turmoil.
Walking around outside, breathing in warm wind, I saw a few other people stumbling out into the world. Everyone seemed lively and excited to be outside, assessing the town for themselves. The residents of downtown Hartford seem relieved and happy that we came through basically unscathed (so far as I have heard-- at the very least I don't think anywhere downtown lost power). I'm tempted to go for a run down by the river, but with wind and flooding, that's too dangerous even for me.
This is a special kind of walk, and we'll all be taking it: to see if the world is still the same. To see if we are still in one piece as a community. Yours will be a walk of curiosity and wonder, and sometimes of despair. You'll be making comparitive statements in your mind, like "not as bad as I thought" or "worse than my neighbor's house."
There has, despite appearences downtown, been destruction and tragedy in other parts of the state and the country. This is not a time to complain about lack of drama-- this is a time to remember that drama is not always a thrill, if you're the one in the middle of it.
To me, the best thing about this hurricane is that we all mutally agreed to shut everything down. Just about everyone has had a safe weekend at home or with loved ones. Once a summer, it is good for us to stay in for 48 hours and reacquaint ourselves with boredom. If you're bored, you're safe.
As you emerge, please be careful. Walk safe. Walk with your eyes open. Then walk with your eyes open every day thereafter.
