Resilience sometimes means accepting help

I’m writing this from my vehicle on the driveway between the terrace of the Sanctuary and my house.

We were spared major damage from Hurricane Ida-structurally.

The fence along the neighbors property snapped at the 4×4 supports – things could have indeed been much worse.

With the major wildlife areas of Grande Isle and Port Fourchon not to mention the unnamed areas along the gulf coast so totally decimated, I feel even more urgent need to provide sanctuary and a micro environment for biodiversity.

Actually I’m quite muddle headed. They say it’s the reactivating of the trauma from the flood, I think it’s the lack of the things that help me self-regulate and be grounded. Also the physical or somatic impact of the stress. I would try to sleep in a tub with the melting ice tonight as the temperatures are only rising and it has to be more comfortable than slimy, sticky sweat soaked sheets.

Soon I will need to resign myself to finding a way to give away the thawed things in the freezer to anyone who has the means to cook. Many people around us have generators. I can’t see it going to waste.

I wanted so badly to keep at restoring the garden today. But my head is still pounding. I realized that I didn’t take any of my medication yesterday. Blood pressure and allergies, sigh. I’m 55 not 75.

Some lovely people have gifted me funds so that I might hire help, or purchase tools or anything to assist in the restoration of the Sanctuary.

Some good things and some bad

Tops of trees shredded or snapped, any tall flowers like the phlox or bee balm were flattened and mostly stripped. The butterfly bushes lost limbs.

The hummingbirds are very grateful I had some sugar water already made.

The monarch caterpillars are still munching away.

Two butterflies emerged in the enclosure I brought inside. A gulf fritillary and a long tailed skipper.

Native plants are generally tenacious. Mine being in containers took a harder hit than the few in the ground. Although the pickerel weed in the bog is more than half leveled.

The pineapple sage had not begun to bloom- so the migrating hummingbirds should have good food when they come through.

Since it will be a while before they can collect debris, I’m hoping some caterpillars can complete their cycles in the piles of branches at the curb.

Enough meandering thoughts for now.

Grateful for my friends

Published by J Kharey; Resilient Chameleon

I am The Resilient Chameleon. Mastering self-adaptation, reinvention and transformation, trying to fit my vast multi-passionate psyche into society's too small box, I missed something intrinsically important, the only truth we can live is our own. The only true path we can follow is the one our own soul knows. Insatiably curious, never content to not understand a life lived in paradoxes and consistently inconsistent, mine is not the sterile landscape; I find order in the chaos of wild plantings, patterns creating harmony, awe in the sacredness, the spice of surprise and the equanimity of synchronicity. In this Sanctuary you have many choices. Come join me on my journey and walk beside me for a while, explore with the eyes of a different perspective, or travel your own path. Together we can plant and nurture the seeds that allow our souls to flower. It is never too late to bloom.

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