dogs loss nature storms

more flood pics from South Bend, and a sign of spring


This force of nature is barreling through towns and drowning homes right and left! These pics were taken across the street from my house on Riverside Drive, South Bend. But the whole region of  “Michiana”–that is, northern Indiana and southern Michigan–is affected. It’s the St Joseph River, an often placid, but unpredictable river in the best of times,  but still people canoe there and go fishing.  But now look at it!

It looks like a Mack truck coming at you. The two bridges over the river from my side were both out this morning; it took 45 minutes to do what usually takes 8.


On a lighter note, while waiting for me to finish taking pictures, Honey Girl pulled me over to a sign of spring.

a sign of spring

sign of spring! see the green shoots pushing through the dead leaves?

(so is the trash everywhere, actually, a sign of spring. It means the snow just melted.)

Right after coming over to ask when we were leaving, as in the picture below, Honey Girl licked my nose. That is a high praise! (She is not a big licking dog. She prefers to “talk” in all kinds of funny groans or get her squeaky toy and put on a squeaking show). I feel honored.

That reminds me of Rousseau’s Confessions. In book 6 of the Confessions Rousseau describes his fondness for taming pigeons and keeping bees: “I have always taken a singular pleasure in taming animals, above all those that are fearful and wild. It appeared charming to me to inspire them with a confidence that I never abused. I wanted them to love me in freedom” (Conf, CW, 5:196).

Adorable Honey Girl.jpg

Honey Girl, 2/22/18




happiness loss wisdom

strange, cold, rushing waters

St Joseph flood with tree Feb 21 2018

Strange sounds accompanied our walk tonight as well. It was the sound of deep, fast-moving water, rushing round the river bend. And it was close at hand–much closer at hand than it’s ever been. Suddenly the neighborhoods I live in and walk through make a completely different sense. Suddenly the river is the dividing line: a wide, deep, unpredictable killer. Suddenly the past and geography of South Bend feel more alive and logical.

We’re the side high up on the bluff. We’ve got downtown, factories, a public library, bus, train, and air travel centers, and a lot of other things too: decaying empty industrial areas and crime, poverty and misery, as well as significant architecture, an art museum, and a big hospital. The other side has Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s–on the opposite bluff–but it also has a large development called “the Northshore Triangle” of charming one- and two-story houses behind grand mansions along the river,  in what is now obviously a flood plain. I bet some developer made a wager back then that this would never happen, and a group of investors went along because, why not? They’d be long gone by the time disaster hits. Well tonight, it’s happening.

Be grateful for your warm, dry home.

And if your life is uneventful be grateful for that too.