Miami’s Upper Eastside is full of proof that “endless summer” is a false ideal to chase. Summer does end, but it also comes back, sometimes in a new shape and form.
Like any good preacher will tell you, there’s a long line of people waiting for salvation, and on this road many of them drive tractor-trailers. So you wait, and the waiting makes you see where you really are.
We look at one another. Are we really going to camp here? We’re in the middle of nowhere Mississippi, we have no map, there are no other people, and the forest may or may not be haunted by Nazi ghosts…
Four years after Katrina, the devastation wrought by the storm was still visible along the Mississippi coast. The resilience of the local community was just as easy to see.
It’s night. A group of figures sits around a counter as light streams out of the building. You don’t know who they are or what they are thinking, but the scene feels familiar nonetheless.
Photo Gallery: We got to the Gulf Coast one year before the BP Oil Spill would try to destroy it, and four years after Katrina had wreaked its own havoc.
