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An essay about storms—ice storms, existential storms, and the strange clarity the aftermath can bring. It weaves through power outages, fatherhood, death, and the sacredness of the maple syrup boil, landing somewhere between elegy and survival guide.

A Note on the Audio

I wrote this beside the evaporator, in the aftermath, and layered it with field recordings. You’ll hear the fire, the heat pressure pings and creaks of the evaporator pans, the hiss of steam, and birds that kept singing anyway. It’s the same piece I published earlier this week, but read aloud, while making maple syrup—because somehow, that’s where it all made sense.

I have had requests for more audio content, from those on the go who prefer to listen to their literature. While I have hosted several podcasts before, this is the first I’ve tried on the Substack platform. I’m still in the trial stage. Let me know if this floats your audio boat.

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