Happy Cuatro de Julio from Nuevo Orleans

Drove around Lakeview with my friend Charlie the other day, taking pictures and grappling with reality.  The word pathos used to be an abstract concept, but now it is a concrete, tangible thing: places like Lakeview, New Orleans East and the Ninth Ward, places where people used to stand outside and water their summer lawns while on the street a soccer-mom van would pass by filled with giddy youngsters on their way to an afternoon game.

Now, it's quiet except for the occassional rumbling truck or maybe the odd person raking the debris into short piles.  In the background there is mostly stillness, and there is also the incessant cawing of the black crows, which is really the sound of death.  I hope that the river of time moves more swiftly in these forsaken streets.  One day it would be nice to drive through and hear the sounds of childish laughter.  Only then will it become a neighborhood again.