I went to New Orleans once, just once. I shared the adventure with two of my best friends several years ago. It was spring break, and we packed enough clothes to last a month. I have a photo of all of us standing in the middle our luggage at a hotel in the French Quarter. Of course we didn't use much of it as we never went back to the room to change. Four days in New Orleans.

As my brain is saturated with the photos and stories of destruction that I can't seem to pull myself away from, images from the New Orleans I met so briefly also plague the cortex of my brain and soul.

We followed the scent of food everywhere we went! (Each of us gained at least 5 pounds on this trip!) We tasted hot fresh doughnuts....sweet peanuts from the vendors...spicy Cajun soup with the crawfish legs still afloat...eggs over easy with toast at the all night diner...raw shots of bourbon.

We followed sounds of carriages...funeral processions...jazz clubs...tossing of a quarter into a saxophone case...flirting couples...our own dancing feet.

We listened to all available stories (I may had had something to do with that!)...the nightly ghost walks...cemetary strolls...the literary tour including the home of Anne Rice and waiting for her to appear in the top cupola (of which she did not!)

We were caught up in a culture that does not surface in Northern Indiana...we held hands as we walked down the center of the streets at night protecting each other from....what?

It was a short trip...I did not know that I would never taste New Orleans again.

Labor Day week end.

I went to New York. I know, I said I wasn't going, but I did. By midweek I had a ticket to Burlington, Vermont where I was picked up by my cousins and taken to my Uncle's camp in the Adirondack Mountains. I, again, had just four days, but we used each moment of it.

It is so breathtakingly beautiful there, and it was cool. We had a fire on the great hearth each morning as we drank early morning coffee to the rising of the sun. A couple of mornings we took kayaks for long journeys from lake to lake. We were greeted with deep rising mist and the lonely call of the loons.
Often we sat and just absorbed beauty...beauty all around.

We watched from The Luella, a boat built in honor of my Grandmother the sailboat races which are a 103 year old tradition. In the evening we attended a party (by boat, of course!) in honor of those receiving the silver cups of racing fro the summer. If you would close your eyes, time would be fluid. Men were dressed in bowties and jackets, women in lovely attire and the silver cups were the same ones given for the 103 years.

There were stories at the table...on the boats...in the teepee (for the triplets!)...in the car...at the hearth...in the garden.

My Uncle has found the secret of blending his business skills with artistic expression. His home is steeped in the arts...photography, painting. On my last morning the fog was so thick that we all bundled up and went out for a photo shoot on The Luella. He gave me my own camera and I came home with stunning photos. His own skill of photography is apparent in the life he leads. Four days in New York. My cousin's new magazine, Plein Air tucked into my carry on...my own photos safely placed inside of it...family stories to keep me going for a while...a nasty bruise from hauling kayak's....and a wish that we were all closer.

Tonight I am home at the House at White Picket Gardens. Aaron and Karen are tucked into their house just a couple of blocks over. Today was Matthew's first day of preschool. He was so tired when I made my bike run that he could hardly tell me about it. Jonah will be one year old on Friday and screams and pouts when I put him down.

The rest of my family is across land and sea. My brother, Jack, is working at the refugee centers in Houston. The call has come to serve and he is there.
My other brother is in Afghanistan. My sister, Jessie, is in Prague this very evening, and oh, I hope someday to go there myself. Everyone is in Tampa and Portland and Houston and New York and Colorado. My sweetheart is on his island preparing the Hurricane/Tropical Storm Ophelia.

With all of the news coverage these past two weeks, I have found myself weeping so many times...but one NPR story I heard made me smile. The storyteller simply said, "This is the first time I have ever seen stars over New Orleans."
With that thought, I will wish you your own stars whether or not you can see them.

Lou Ann