Blue Tarps

I first encountered them in photographs of Katrina's aftermath, then on houses atop Sand Mountain after the April 27, 2014 tornadoes, and now across the openings of old sheds/wooden garages and around the farm in Sewanee.

A symbol of suffering and destruction, they cheer me here -- flapping, snapping in wind; shadowing in strong sunlight; fraying from weathering and age. Today, one hoop house tarp clapped and ruffled, clapped and ruffled, clapped and ruffled, in a curiously moving rhythm.

And I was happy.