Monday, August 21, 2023

Aftermath| A Story and a Poem #Hurricaneseason


Like the Nile River, the St. John's River in Florida runs north. In the aftermath of Hurricane Ian, the St. John's River swelled to an all time high, flooding outlying land like no other time in anyone's memory banks. 

Due to the devastating mega-storm that hit Fort Myers, Florida in November 2022, at least 150 people, most of them elderly died and mostly from drowning. The storm surge on the west coast caused the Gulf of Mexico to rise well over fifteen feet above its normal limit. An entire bridge washed away from Sanibel Island. 

When the hurricane subsided, I stood outside my home to view the aftermath. Although I live near the St. John's River, my street was spared from the oncoming flood. The cow pasture behind me was a different story. The water rose over the bushes, covering tree trunks. I hoped the slow-moving gopher tortoises escaped to higher ground in time. 

As I stood in my front yard, I marveled at the clear blue sky—a sharp contrast from the previous day with the swirling, powerful winds passing over our house. Two large birds of prey flew overhead. I squinted skyward and the birds lowered altitude, close enough for me to recognize their white heads and brown wings—bald eagles in all their glory. As they whistled to each other, I tried to mimic the sound.

The eagles flew closer to my house. I lifted my arms high and continued to echo their calls. Goosebumps popped out all over my arms as one eagle swooped to only ten feet above me. Fear set in as I realized its talons could rip my fingers off. I lowered my arms and continued to gaze at the duo, swooping and calling to each other. I'd never witnessed America’s national bird flying over my neighborhood before. The expansion of the river must have expanded their hunting grounds.

It was months before the river receded back to its original banks. Until then, wild boar, deer, raccoons, and other native Florida critters were pushed out of their wilderness homes and into oncoming traffic and run over daily. The aftermath of the hurricane is still being felt by those who lost loved ones and their homes. Not only that but the healthy ecosystem around the St. John's River has been set off kilter from the flooding, which may not recover for years to come.

Aftermath
by Chanda Singleton Griesë

Two bald eagles took wing
After the hurricane
Searching the swollen
St. John’s River bank—

Not the river Jordan which
Split down     the middle
As Israel crossed—
Bearing the holy ark

Marking God's covenant. 
On a different note,
Sanford knows
The river dealt such a blow

That eagles found easy prey
Rabbits, racoons, river rats—  
All fled as the waters rose
                to overflow. 

Aftermath© by