Just How Lucky
Dec. 16th, 2008 12:38 amI knew I got off easy from the ice storm that wreaked such havoc here in the Northeast. My power outage was measured in hours, not days. The phone was back soon, too. The storm derailed my Friday schedule and plans. It reminded me of the risks of not having a generator, and made me think about what options and resources I had at hand to help keep pipes from freezing. But the bottom line this time around was that I was lucky. I got off easy.
Monday afternoon, I saw for myself just how lucky I was. I drove west on the Mass Pike. For a 20-25 mile stretch between Westfield and Lee, somewhere between a third and half of the trees on the south side of the road were shattered, tops broken and gone. Tree trunks ended in the rough, raw end of a broken stick, 20, 30, 40 feet from the ground.
It was visually shocking. Stretch after stretch, mile after mile, clumps and clumps and clumps of 15, 20 and more trees all with their tops snapped, torn, dangling, missing. I passed hundreds, thousands. In between, partial destruction. Ten percent of the trees, a third of them, sometimes more. I doubt I saw 20,000 topped trees, but 10,000 seems conservative.
There was damage on the north side of the road, too. Broken branches, fallen trees. Birch after birch after birch...big ones...lay on the ground, stretching toward the road. There were some topped trees, too, but the south side of the road kept drawing my attention. These were just the trees I could see from the road. My mind croggles when I think of how far back the destruction might have stretched. Hell, my mind croggled at the destruction I saw.
It was all too easy to imagine, to envision, that kind of destruction of Toad Woods, not so far away. It could have so easily happened, given the destructiveness of the storm. It did happen...just not to my property. Monday I saw just how lucky I was, and that was lucky, indeed.
Monday afternoon, I saw for myself just how lucky I was. I drove west on the Mass Pike. For a 20-25 mile stretch between Westfield and Lee, somewhere between a third and half of the trees on the south side of the road were shattered, tops broken and gone. Tree trunks ended in the rough, raw end of a broken stick, 20, 30, 40 feet from the ground.
It was visually shocking. Stretch after stretch, mile after mile, clumps and clumps and clumps of 15, 20 and more trees all with their tops snapped, torn, dangling, missing. I passed hundreds, thousands. In between, partial destruction. Ten percent of the trees, a third of them, sometimes more. I doubt I saw 20,000 topped trees, but 10,000 seems conservative.
There was damage on the north side of the road, too. Broken branches, fallen trees. Birch after birch after birch...big ones...lay on the ground, stretching toward the road. There were some topped trees, too, but the south side of the road kept drawing my attention. These were just the trees I could see from the road. My mind croggles when I think of how far back the destruction might have stretched. Hell, my mind croggled at the destruction I saw.
It was all too easy to imagine, to envision, that kind of destruction of Toad Woods, not so far away. It could have so easily happened, given the destructiveness of the storm. It did happen...just not to my property. Monday I saw just how lucky I was, and that was lucky, indeed.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 12:40 pm (UTC)At Toad Woods, it sounded like there were a herd of very drunk deer thrashing through the forest, along with a few bears and caribou in the same condition. It took me a half hour or more to figure out what the sounds really were, to finally grok that the rain I thought I heard was significantly colder and thicker than it appeared to be right outside my door. The house warmed the ground near it enough, and it was warm enough out, that the pavement just felt wet and not at all icy.