The air is grim today, blustery and grey, but still balmy. There is foreboding in the air but it is nothing to worry about. A storm is coming in. Schools are closed early. If the streets flood, as they promise to do if this is the kind of storm that is in the wind, then nobody will be able to get home. Hunker down.
Mrs. King told me there were tornadoes in New Iberia. New Iberia is out on the Cajun Prairie. It is all rice and pepper country far away from here. What is the worst that could happen in New Orleans?
Naturally, today is the day I decided to finish my aviary. It is essentially set up.
There is still work to be done, but it is done enough to let the chickens out to roam. They are scratching and pecking like there is no tomorrow. I need to tighten everything up before I introduce the parakeets. This should be fun.
If I took a photograph, it would like a cage without bars. It is a chicken wire enclosure, appropriately enough. Chicken wire is essentially like netting. I didn’t realize that until I started working with it. I would tell you all about it but even I do not find the topic very interesting, and I spent all morning tailoring a bolt of it into place.
I have stuck to my back garden today. I do not want to get swept up in a tornado. I would not complain if it happens but I am not going out of my way to court disaster.
Maybe I should go out. Most accidents happen at home.
An ill wind is blowing in my back garden. Still photography does not do the weather’s mood justice. Thunder is starting to rumble in long, drawn-out refrains, like boulders rolled over a kettle drumhead.
My neighbor’s Mardi Gras Indian is unmoved.
The crows are going nuts, flying over Tremé. I cannot tell where they are headed. The wind is buffeting them in every direction as they noisily make their way, I think, uptown.
In Latin, crows do not say, “caw caw.” In Latin crows say, “cras cras.” Cras is the Latin word for tomorrow.
Now I am going to talk about Saint Expedite, who’s statue is honored in the old mortuary chapel that is the official chapel of the New Orleans Police Department and the New Orleans Fire Department.
I enjoy talking about St. Expedite. The crows made me think of him.
I am going to describe a very granular detail of life in New Orleans. This is what paid subscribers get. I do not hit it out of the park every day, but, if you are interested in the parts of New Orleans I explore, off the usual tourist radar, or, if you live here, parts of New Orleans you rarely visit, you should become a paid subscriber. It will be much more interesting than talking about chicken wire. I know because I am halfway done writing the part behind the paywall.