Posted tagged ‘fallen trees’

“The first rule of hurricane coverage is that every broadcast must begin with palm trees bending in the wind.”

August 25, 2017

Some mornings all the elements converge just right and the most gorgeous day dawns. Today is one of those mornings. The breeze is from the north, and I could smell the ocean when I was out with Gracie. Both of us stayed on the deck, not wanting to come inside. The smell of the salt water flooded my mind’s eye with familiar images. I saw the ocean with its tiny whitecaps hitting the sand. I saw the grasses atop the dunes dancing, blown by the slight breeze.

The morning air is cool today. Sharp sunlight glints through the trees hanging over the deck and leaves shadows of armlike branches. The small round mirrors hanging from the pine branches send a reflection of white circles bouncing around the side yard. The birds fly in and out, and I was glad I filled the feeders yesterday.

Today in all its glory needs to be savored.

I’m watching the news about Hurricane Harvey. I know what it’s like to dread the coming wind, rain and high water. I remember Hurricane Bob. It left trees across roads, wires hanging from split telephone poles and branches all over streets and yards. I lost a fir tree in my front yard, my second Christmas tree, but I still felt lucky because the tree fell away from the house. Stores were closed. I was without electricity for days. I cooked all of the freezer meat on the grill trying to save it. I drove all over to find ice. I couldn’t believe the damage I saw. It took a long while for the clean-up and for everything to get back to normal.

On August 25th 1954, two amazing events occurred. Hurricane Carol developed near the Bahamas and started its way toward New England. It would reach the coast days later, at the end of the month. Carol was devastating and deadly. Cape Cod was evacuated. More than 10,000 homes across New England were damaged including 1,545 that were completely destroyed. 3,000 boats and 3,500 automobiles were wrecked. Even Boston wasn’t spared. The wind sheared off the steeple of the Old North Church. Though I was only seven, I have memories of this storm. The giant, old elm tree across from my house went down and fell on the street making the road impassable. My father brought my brother and me outside during the eye of the hurricane to see the tree, and we climbed among the branches. I remember how still it was and how quiet.

The second amazing event was my sister Moe was born. Today she turns 63. She was under 5 pounds at birth so the hospital kept her until she gained more weight. That was the practice back then. She was still in the hospital when we lost electricity so we glad she was. By the time she came home, our house was back to normal.

My sister and Carol are forever joined in my memory.  That’s not to say they have anything in common except both were born on the same day.

“It is better to meet danger than to wait for it. He that is on a lee shore, and foresees a hurricane, stands out to sea and encounters a storm to avoid a shipwreck.”

October 28, 2012

Sandy most decidedly has my attention. Yesterday I got a robocall from Nstar, and this morning it was the Dennis Police Department. I was warned to brace for hurricane winds, rain and electrical failure. I have a few things yet to move on the deck, but they’re small and will take only a few minutes. I got 8 D batteries from the hardware store, no rush of people there, so my mega lamp is ready. My iPad and my phone are charged. I may go out for a few goodies later, but mostly I have enough food. I do worry a bit about pine trees as they sway in even small winds, but only one tree is near the house. It’s now wait and see time.

I remember Hurricane Daisy even more than Bob because I was young and totally impressed by the wind and the rain. It hit New England in August 1958. My sister had just been born and was kept in the hospital a couple of days because she was under 5 pounds, and they did that back then. My mother was relieved the baby was safe. With no power, my mother couldn’t have heated bottles. My dad took us out during the eye of the storm. The light was eerie; the sky a strange color. I don’t remember any sounds: no birds, no cars. The oak tree across the street had fallen on the road making it impassable. Its tree stump still had split shards from the trunk. I remember the inside bark was white. In my mind’s eye, I can still see all the small branches usually up so high but now lying on the road close to my side of the street. My brother and I sat on the trunk, and we walked through and around the branches. That something so huge could fall made a lasting impression.

My dad, sensing the start of the wind again, brought us inside the house. I remember watching out the window and seeing the leaves blown about as the trees swayed. I will never forget the sound of that wind.