I’m a bit heartsick about the Golden Triangle. The folks not over Harvey and struck by Imelda as they try to get their heads above the muck and mud.
We fight to be able to rethink before we rebuild, but HOME is so URGENT calling us back. The answers are no longer behind us and we cannot RE- anything anymore. We have to figure out how to ride this. To float this. To something new. Not because we’re foolish, but because we love who we are together in these troubled areas. As fragile as it is. As we are.
I’m never giving up on the Gulf Coast. I’ll never become one of those people who get away and write about my people from a higher perch. No matter where I go, I look forward to being back home in the messy unpretentious swamps and estuaries – floating between stability and eternity.