like a whispering in dark streets (flamingjune07) wrote in dearnola,
like a whispering in dark streets

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hello. First post.

Dear New Orleans,

I've been thinking about you ever since I left, but especially in these past few months. I'm sorry I've been unable to really express myself to you; the depth and complexity of my feelings of late have not lent themselves to words. But I will try.

I tumbled into your warm, musky arms when I was barely even 5 years old. You became my home, my playground, and in a sense my mother almost immediately. I walked your humid streets and climbed all your trees. I grew on your swampy soil and drank of your murky waters. You cradled the child I was in the deep recesses of the earth until I grew strong and emerged. Even though I had to leave 10 years later, I carry remnants of you in my very bones. Now, after 7 years, the rest of the world still seems a little bland and alien to me.

I was appalled by Katrina. We all knew it would happen eventually, but when it did, it was just as much a horror, a wrong, like seeing someone strike your mother. In a week, I will be visiting once again, this time with tools and friends and first aid and anything else my meager means can pull together to try to repair the damage done. I know there's no way I alone can really do much, but I hope this little something will be enough.

Yours always,
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