New Beach, Same weather

Brookings on a typical winter's day, the waves silvering in the little bit of blue, and then south to the damp cold of the boat. My friend Barbara offered us her house in Santa Barbara, so the boat held us for a day only. California is green, green, green from the recent rains and the ocean is brown and murky along the shorelines from the last week's five storms. We moved into Barbara and Dick's house, hit Trader Joes and Blockbuster and had the best view of the storms from high in the hills. The ocean was pure foam and wild, with individual monster waves visible even from up here. The fourth storm brought snow on the "mountains" behind the house, and a trip to the harbor found about ten boats washed up and stuck on the beach. Fool's Harbor is what the locals call the anchorage in front of the city, and a wild dance of masts went on for a week. We were warm, dry and happy and wondered what the poor people were doing.

Haiti. That's what they were doing. I had been there a few yars ago with a group of clergy, and stayed in the hotel that collapsed. There were familiar views of places we had visited, and heartbreaking views on the tv of so many people in trouble. The need is overwhelming and the administration of any help and supplies is chaotic. So we are warm, dry, sheltered, and heartsick for the lovely people who showed me their incredible spirit in spite of their poverty. We are in one of the wealthiest enclaves in the world and the contrast with what I have seen and we are now seeing is too far apart to describe. Unreal.