I’ve been back in New Orleans for two weeks now and adjusting to the heat and humidity as I pack up the sweaters I wore while I was in Ireland. I won’t need anything other than the wispiest cotton or linen until mid to late October, and that’s if we are lucky. I had such a rich experience in Cork, one that I will hopefully be able to share more of in the upcoming weeks.
It’s good to be home. I missed my dogs, the cats, and being away from my husband for a month made me realize how much we rely on each other. It’s also been great catching up with friends that I don’t get time to hang out with during the school year. But in the two weeks that I’ve been back my bike was stolen, there was a two day boil water advisory, my tenant’s water heater broke, and my husband’s car was in the shop. To top it off I left all of my camera equipment on a bus in Ireland. I reported my loss to the bus company not even 10 minutes after the bus left the airport, but it seems like my camera is gone forever.
But as much as I’d like to sit around and throw a pity party for one, I realize how incredibly lucky I am. At least I wasn’t in that Lafayette movie theater. At least I wasn’t one of the 109 people (and counting) that have been murdered in New Orleans so far this year. At least I wasn’t one of the five cyclists that have died this year. Yes, at least I am still alive.
I took the photo seen above on a Cork Photo Fest tour during my last weekend in Ireland. People in New Orleans leave painted white bicycles as memorials in places where cyclists were killed in an accident. This pair was behind a fence in Ireland, tucked away on a side street that not many tourists venture down. I’m not sure of the intended meaning of the bikes, but I couldn’t help but wonder why they were there.
Make no mistake, I don’t walk around New Orleans in fear for my life, but the days I find myself getting all “woe is me” I need to sit back, reassess, and really be thankful for the good stuff.