a natural phenomenon, a conflict, a woman's name, a nine letter word, a conundrum, a warrior, a time period, a killer, a re-uniter, a one-in-a-million, katrina.
without doubt and with assurance she altered the course of many lives. very few we know. rich and poor, black and white, weak and strong separated us as she passed through the gulf of mexico, onto the shores of louisiana and mississippi. what kept us together was our lack of readiness, our innocence, our vulnerability, our common home.
who could be ready for her kind of reality? her kind of audacity? her personal attack?
within hours of her arrival, we were changed though and noticeably troubled. we experienced disorientation, whiplash. no one that i knew, no one that was near me during that storm had ever experienced the breadth, depth, or magnitude of her power. i doubt we will again.
all we really knew, beau and i as we played boggle and scrabble and read in our rooms at the holiday inn express was what was immediate and present. we relied on reports we overheard, resources not belonging to us, and telephone calls when we could get through. we became survivors. we speculated and tried on optimism when we got scared. we held on to each other a lot. i remember not wanting to be too far from beau.
for me katrina's impact seems to be an ongoing rite of passage. since she blew my house away, "all gone" says karen blixen as she watches her coffee farm burn down in the movie out of africa, i have been telling my story again and again and again and again. each time slightly differently but the basis is all gone. since katrina i have become more committed to discovery and married to mystery.
she didn't change my attitude about life at all. i don't think anything ever will. how else could life be but vulnerable, impermanent, infinite, tantalizing, demoralizing, awkward, fleeting, scrumptious, and deep?
but she did bring me to a place that i never imagined being: Asheville where seasons change and snow falls, where I walk more than I did because it's too beautiful not to; where I learn about growing zinnias each spring and summer; where I discover farmers at their markets that make the grocery store look archaic and backward.
I found out I am a good swimmer
and don't have to wonder about that anymore. My Grandmothers give me reason to keep going, being beyond 90 and beyond their own abilities to understand life herself.More since Katrina I've held Chapman and Sadie for the first time.
I bought another house, 
one I don't adore as much as my first but that I do adore in an older, wiser way. And I have a more grown up relationship with my sister than I did five years ago. We get into it, we try harder, we speak our truths with more willingness and less fear.
Since Katrina, my Dad and Marda visit each year; we eat dinner, maybe ice cream and we tell stories about our lives here and there. 
Since Katrina, hiking with Martyn in the mountains, sitting by a fire at their home in Cashiers, Mom and Martyn come close sometimes.
Since Katrina, my friends are not all southerners or privileged or social.
Since Katrina, my way of life is not steady.In essence, Katrina made me look and feel and see and think and let go and hold on---all at once! She shook me up, made me cry and had me lose because it's not a race. It's a life, and we're on a journey, and there is no map except for the faces and the places and spaces of this moment, the ever-present.
THERE WILL BE STARS
There will be stars over the place forever;
Though the house we loved
and the street we loved are lost,
Every time the earth circles her orbit
On the night the autumn equinox is crossed,
Two stars we knew,
poised on the peak of midnight
Will reach their zenith;
stillness will be deep;
There will be stars over the place forever,
There will be stars forever;
while we sleep.
SARA TEASDALE
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