Brattleboro is a town of cafes, bookstores, restaurants, funky shops. Great for walking.

We live in a curious world, where we often know too much too quickly and too often, and we don’t know how to handle all of the information we get. Irene is a big storm, and big storms get me nervous in the very particular way that people who have farms with helpless animals understand. You can’t explain a storm track or high winds or downpours to donkeys or chickens  sheep or dogs or cats. And a form is a delicate ecosystem whose skeletal structure consists of fragile and breakable things – watery pumps, fences, gates, barns.

All of these things can and do break down, and animals in barns and fields can panic and hurt themselves when winds shriek, lightning and thunder erupt and floods wash through their habitats. People love to tell me that they see my life as idyllic – I love my life, and appreciate that – but Irene reminds us that no life is idyllic and my life is not just about pretty photos, cute animals and lovely scenes. I project those images because I love to do that and make people feel good, but I also have to be honest and say a hurricane headed straight to the farm triggers what I am told is an overwrought sense of responsibility.

I do not want animal in my care to suffer and so my head is spinning – hay, water, barn structures, when to move them, how to feed them and keep them stable. Technology is always a two-edged sword. We learn about storms early, but we hear about them every second.

So we are in a curious dance with Irene. Millions of people are altering plans, changing direction, waiting for more information, tracking and cell-phoning and texting. We are trying to get our little jaunt in before whatever breaks loose breaks loose, and whatever we get is likely to be less than what people along the coast will get and suffer. Still, the storm is heading right for the farm at the moment, and Maria told me this morning to stop tracking it. So I have. Until the desk clerk told me the eye of the storm will hit about 50 miles from the farmhouse and barns. I think of the animals, and tomorrow we will go home and they will get ready, and we will be fine and they will be fine.

I am dancing with Irene, and we are moving closer together and this, too, is another opportunity for me to stay focused, be centered, keep perspective. So this afternoon – a walk with my former girlfriend, my love, Korean food, and a movie. I bought two flannel shirts at Sam’s a wonderful store which sells everything. Then tonight, dinner somewhere and a movie.

The rain has begun, and it is getting windy and gloomy, not normal whether. Irene is showing her skirts, and some leg, and beckoning to me.

I will leave Irene standing by the side of the dance floor. Perhaps she will dance with somebody else, or go away. If she doesn’t, I will put my arms around her and do the Tango. Be safe and dry.