It struck me walking with Sheba yesterday, almost 2 years after Katrina and on the footsteps of Dean approaching, about how much change has occured in the narrow confines of our neighborhood in these past 24 months.
Immediately after Katrina, the Perry Street wharf became a waystation for charity groups and AID barges, full of building materials and bottled water. A FEMA trailer park was constructed directly across the driveway. Now it is silent and abandoned.
There was also a huge crevice in the middle of the levee path. Like a crooked smile, it was a reminder of how close we were to having the river levee fail.No doubt now it has been filled, and the trucks full of levee inspectors (again, another strain on our levee) were checking to see if we will be safe against Dean and anything else that might come our way this season.
The other thing is that it is so quiet now. No more dump trucks shoveling garbage up or eighteen wheelers mowing you down as they haul stuff. Just the sound of what may come to be, this season or next.
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