This week, the leader of my prayer group asked us to settle our hearts and minds before the session, perhaps by envisioning a place of peace. Living in south Louisiana, water is a constant. After hearing the news of yet another massacre at yet another school campus, I need such a place to go in my mind. For me, that would look something like the pier below that I viewed earlier this week while walking on the shore of Lake Pontchartrain.
Jesus told His disciples, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27, NIV).
Yesterday, the sun came out. Like many in the US, we had an unusually cold winter. In the semi-tropical biome that I inhabit, that’s generally a good thing. We didn’t turn on the air-conditioner, nor cut the grass, nor have undue concern over getting eaten and carried away by mosquitoes or large reptilians such as the alligator. All of these are normal concerns almost year-round.
This year? We had winter. Frost settled on the yard like morning dew. Sullen teenagers gathered at bus stops with hoodies zipped up to the chin. I searched, found, and used my one pair of gloves.
Then, like a hammer, spring fell on us in one day. That day was yesterday. Oh, how glorious.*
In the afternoon, I wandered off to Fountainbleau State Park in Mandeville, Louisiana. The park abuts Lake Pontchartrain, a voluminous lake of 629 square miles spanning nearly 40 miles between the decadent city of New Orleans and the virtuous shores of Mandeville. When one stands on the water’s edge, the illusion of a vast sea is created.
Here are a few pictures of fellow Louisianians enjoying the day.
Today, the sky is grey. While the temperatures will remain moderate, the forecast is for 4-7 inches of rain over the next three to four days. Paradise lost, once again.
*Due to our extremely intolerant climate, the next day of Glory will occur in mid-October.
Blue King Kong* tempts wayward motorists to get a cup, a pint, and even a gallon or two for the road along US 90. My father’s ancestors settled in this small village near New Orleans almost over 200 years ago. Then, they migrated further westward, away from blue concrete creatures hawking sweet, intoxicating slush.
This post is linked to Unknown Mami, our host for Sundays In My City.
*Corrected. I had written in Godzilla. My apologies to the Japanese.
When I moved to the US in late summer, I bought a new-to-me red car, a 2013 Hyundai Veloster. The red car and I are having lots of fun, whether in the city or country. Sometimes, we take BuBu, my German shepherd. The red car has three doors, a hatchback, good fuel economy and a sporty feel.
Sundays In My City are linked to Unknown Mami, who sponsored our weekly meme.
Mardi Gras is just around the corner. The city is awash in parades, bright colors, and music. This house is in the Faubourg Marigny District. We were walking to Arabella’s Casa di Pasta after viewing a parade.
As part of the Audubon Zoo exhibit in New Orleans, there sits a Cajun houseboat. It’s docked near the levee on the Mississippi, where the river takes a turn toward uptown. If you’re tired of winter, come on down to New Orleans. The weather is balmy, the living is easy, and yes…I suppose catfish are jumping, too.
When the days are cold and dreary, there’s nothing like a cup of tea. In downtown Covington, there’s a lovely spot for tea, where all things tea are served with a flair. Of course, I must admit that I enjoy it more because my sister is the owner.