I live about nineteen miles upriver from Louisville and close enough to the mighty Ohio River to hear the thrumming of towboat engines. They have been especially loud lately in their struggle against the flood.
On lazy summer days I envy the locals who live on the banks or take their boats out for the spectacular sunrises and sunsets, but I do not envy the steep price they pay every spring during the floods of the Ohio.
The river crested overnight. From this point on, the water will recede. The McAlpine gauge in Louisville topped at 28.61 feet, a “moderate” flood. For comparison, last year’s “major” February flood crested at 35.64 feet.
It is impossible to overstate the Ohio River’s influence in this area on commerce, recreation, history, even romance. It is a thing here like the Kentucky Derby is a thing. It does not take kindly to being forgotten or taken for granted and every spring it shrugs out of its banks and demands recognition.
A Love Poem by Garrison Keillor
A summer night, and you, and paradise,
So lovely and so full of grace,
Above your head, the universe has hung its lights,
And I reach out my hand to touch your face.
I believe in impulse, in all that is green,
Believe in the foolish vision that comes true,
Believe that all that is essential is unseen,
And for this lifetime I believe in you.
All of the lovers and the love they made:
Nothing that was between them was a mistake.
All that is done for love’s sake,
Is not wasted and will never fade.
All who have loved will be forever young
and walk in grandeur on a summer night
along the avenue.
They live in every song that is sung
and every painting of pure light
and every Pas De Deux.
O love that shines from every star,
Love reflected in the silver moon;
It is not here, but it’s not far.
Not yet, but it will be here soon.
“There is no remedy for love but to love more.”Henry David Thoreau
Thought of the day provided by Thomas Brown – Madwillow Creekhouse.