Walking across the Williamsburg Bridge tonight was dreamlike. One should realize that literally half of the bridge is in darkness, the other half still with electricity; that it is Halloween; and that the bridge's pedestrian walkway is directly above the road, so that one can see the beams of the cars' headlights but not the actual cars. When I got to the mid-way point on the bridge, with the Manhattan skyline blacked out in front of me, the path descended into pitch-black with the occasional zombie and ghost emerging from the shadows, and the lights strobing below the pathway. Once submerged and on the other side, I felt like I was walking through the forgotten sculpture garden of a giant. There is not a single light anywhere. Manhattan became a field of onyx monoliths. Because nothing is open, because there is no transportation, because I felt I could get lost in the dark, I turned around and went back into the light.

Over the last 24 hours I have received emails written by much-loved people here who are enduring conditions they may not have experienced before in their lives.

The exceptional thing about these emails, including Walter’s post above, is that they contain images and expressions that constitute, in my view, some of the best writing, poetic writing, I have seen from these poets.

Our friends are experiencing conditions so near to my experience as a denizen of Australia, where natural disasters like floods and fires are almost annual events. I know what it is to lose everything. Things have been taken by these waters that will not be again.

It is time for memory. Our friends in these places are using their voices - in letters, in emails, in posts like Walter’s – to give us a sense of this disaster that no news footage has conveyed to me.

Walter – your post above is far more than that. It took me to where you are, to what you saw, to what you felt.

Rick – I know you are seeing and feeling the devastation. Your descriptions are vivid, are necessary. As I have already said, words can paint a thousand pictures.

Not only is my heart heaving like a sea for all of you effected by this storm, my heart is swelling with love for your perceptions, your empathy, your being in this thing, in its aftermath and giving it words.

When you can, keep us in touch. Keep us informed. Keep us with you.

Cally

What Cally said. We've been trying to get ahold of friends and make sure they're okay, and have not succeeded in every case.

How haunted all places are. How much it turns our minds when they no longer exist or are change in some great degree.

But change is the law of life, and we are its subjects.

Dave