Hurricane Ida, Sept. 1, 2021, had devastating effects on many parts of this country, my state of New Jersey, my county, and my little town. From the flash flooding of our local creek and the 10″ of water that fell in 3-4 hours on already soaked land, our little downtown was under water up to a man’s waist.
I am deeply grateful that my house did not take on water, and after a few falters, the power stayed on. Friday, I wanted to take a walk and see what the Delaware looked like and how some small part of my little town had fared.
The day was bright and sunny, and everything looked as if there had never been a devastating storm barely over a day ago. Gardens were overflowing with perennials of every kind and looking lovely. Our area isn’t real big on formal landscaping, just filled with life. I felt relieved.
Through the trees, you could glimpse the river, a sunlit brown and green, rushing downstream.
Flowers and plants were in full bloom, edging quietly towards fall.
There was such a profusion of life; I could hardly imagine the destruction that I’d seen on the news of so many areas not that far from where I live.
A cover of stormy grey clouds provided a momentary canopy over the Delaware River. The water had reached 8′ above flood stage just the morning before, and even though receding, it had enveloped tree trunks all along its banks. And still, as always, it was stunning.
A shallow shoreline of stones where the tree roots were always visible, gone.
An abundance of sweet-smelling honeysuckle climbing over everything. With the brilliant blue sky behind, it seemed some sort of miracle.
Snowball hydrangea changing into their late summer green phase still evidenced some fresh white blooms, in denial of the coming fall, and the crisp, dry temperatures.
When these cataclysmic events happen, we can easily get overwhelmed with the news, with the images of destruction, knowing in our hearts how much people are suffering in the face of life-changing events … in some cases, the loss of loved ones. I didn’t go into town, not knowing what I might find. And what could I do? So I remained in gratitude for the safety with which I and most of my town had been graced. And tried to find the balance in beauty.
Hoping this finds you all safe and well.
Still A Dreamer 
Glad to know that you ate safe and sound after Hurricane Ida. Love and light be with you.
Warmest regards,
Toni Myers in Walla Walla, Washington
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Hi Toni, I’m so glad to hear from you. I hope you’re well, too. There’s no predicting what any of us will be hit with at any time anymore. I am grateful for all the love and light you send, and know it is always returned. Know I think of you so fondly. ❤️
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So good to read you’re safe and well, Jeanne, along with so many in your sweet town. I hope the downtown damage will not prove extensive, but know that even a little can cost a lot to repair. So sad that we humans have pushed the Earth to her limits. We have had no rain for months. Months. Praying our well won’t run dry.
Your restorative walk was glorious to share. Thank you! Hope your next rain will be gentle snd your town safe. Grateful, again, that your home and neighborhood survived this storm. 💕
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I think that’s some of the worst of it, Kitty … while we are pumping out a deluge of water, you have none, and California is ablaze. Poor Louisiana and Tennessee are a wreck. And yet we have those in denial that we have anything to do with what’s happening on our beleaguered planet. Thank you for you kind wishes, and I’m happy my simple stroll could brighten your day. XOXO 😘
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Glad you and yours are safe and that your home is not damaged.
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Thank you, Sarah, it was a tough 24+ hours, but made it through.
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I, too, was blessed to be unharmed by Ida … as was my family and friends. However, with the dire warnings of possible tornadoes and flash floods, I don’t mind saying that I was plenty scared. It was a wild ride I never want to take again.
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The tornado warnings were just the scary icing on an already fear-filled cake. But we got through. 🙂
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Wonderful to see your town is intact and all is well with your home. I can imagine how terrifying it must of been.xxx
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Thank you so much, snowbird. It was. We’ve never had tornado warnings in this area like we’ve had recently, and 8 touched down in this storm, fortunately for me, to the south, but not for those poor people. There’s a lot of clean-up to do for many people, sadly. Stay safe yourself, too. 🙂
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Glad you are safe and your property is unharmed. You’re right about finding balance in beauty. Sometimes it’s a little harder to find, but like you did, we just have to walk a ways to find it. Love the hydrangeas and cheerful zinnias.
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Thank you, Cheryl. As I was taking some of those flower photos, I knew you gardeners out there would particularly like some of them. A zinnia! I’ve never seen one like that – is it a wild kind? The greenish clusters – is that some kind of sedum?
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Yes, that’s definitely a sedum AND also definitely not a zinnia! Sorry, I didn’t have my glasses on and I was going by color! 🤣 Now with glasses on and looking at leaves, I think that vivid beauty might just be a Mexican sunflower or Tithonia.
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The sedum I suspected, the red flower no clue, but it’s also not very big – in diameter, no wider than a petunia in full bloom. But I like Mexican sunflower. 🙂 Thanks!
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I thought about you, Jeanne, remembering that you live near a river in NJ! So glad you’re safe and your town is okay. Such terrible times for so many! Your photos are lovely as always.
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I appreciate it, Becky. It was a pretty scary time for many of us up this way – New Jersey and New York City, too. Always happy to share my photos, and so glad you like them. 🙂
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It must have been VERY scary!
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