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icarusWhen a tree falls on a house, does it make a sound?
Why yes. Yes, it does. The sound is much like that of a heavy dresser tipping over, or perhaps a heavy dresser with a large bowling ball on top bouncing away.
I was on the trampoline, gazing up at the sky when I noticed high-flying, fast-moving dark clouds. This was not a gradual storm sidling into the area, it was moving like a speeding train. I thought, "Hmm. Best I get inside."
The heavy winds and rain hit moments later. The power blinked off, on again, and then totally off.
That's when the hypothetical dresser fell over. Or something that sounded like one. The bowling ball sound came while I was climbing the stairs. I saw no dresser (or bowling ball for that matter) but across the front door the better part of a tree had fallen.
Oh dear.
The storm stopped after no more than seven minutes, the sun shining as I went downstairs to find the entire front door and walkway blocked. More large branches blocked the driveway.
Not twenty minutes later neighbors showed up to check on me, make sure I was all right. We stepped over and around branches, the front walk being occupied by a new forest.
The upper northwest corner had the gutter torn loose. Jim-the-neighbor pointed out the dent in the roof, and that's when I saw the rest of the tree, still up there.
Well.
There's not much else you can say about a tree on the roof. Well.
Simbha and I took a walk through the neighborhood, checking out the damage. A tree had fallen across our residential street, cutting off all access. A man in his late fifties got out an old-fashioned saw had it already cut in half. Outside, people cleared branches from their lawns, talked to neighbors, and passed news about when the electricity was due back (three days, eiii). I was told of an elderly woman who had a hole in her roof. A young man in his 30s and his wife stared up at their roof where some large branches had hit but not made a dent. A woman pointed out the torn shingles on her garage. Another woman needed help dragging branches, and noticed Simbha was thirsty, inviting us in to get him some water.
In roughly seven minutes the storm accomplished a surprising amount. I've met people like this.
I camped out in the living room by candlelight. The gas stove still worked, but the hot water tank only had a certain amount of hot water. The next morning traffic was a start-stop of slow politeness. All the stoplights were out. A huge tree upended--its root system exposed to the air--attracted rubberneckers.
Monday I started the process of repairs. Contacting a family on vacation to tell them that a tree fell on their house left me feeling vaguely guilty and responsible, as if I should have prevented it. I should have watched that tree more closely.
Internet services at work were down, though work was busy. I returned home to surreal darkness, stoplights invisible in the night. Another candlelight dinner and phone calls on a dying cell phone. So sick of camping out already.
Simon at work offered to let me use his shower if I ran out of hot water.
On the way home tonight, the traffic lights were on. Down our residential street I spotted one porch light. Then another. They're magical when you haven't seen them for a couple of days.
But my porch light wasn't on. Well, I know I'd reported (or my mother had reported for me) the power outage rather late. I hadn't realized that each and every house had to call in. I would be last.
Then I noticed the light on in the computer room. Jubilation! I wanted to run every appliance in the house, just because I could.
Needless to say, I accomplished nothing on my Atlantis Big Bang fic these last few days. Thank god I'm 75% done.
Why yes. Yes, it does. The sound is much like that of a heavy dresser tipping over, or perhaps a heavy dresser with a large bowling ball on top bouncing away.
I was on the trampoline, gazing up at the sky when I noticed high-flying, fast-moving dark clouds. This was not a gradual storm sidling into the area, it was moving like a speeding train. I thought, "Hmm. Best I get inside."
The heavy winds and rain hit moments later. The power blinked off, on again, and then totally off.
That's when the hypothetical dresser fell over. Or something that sounded like one. The bowling ball sound came while I was climbing the stairs. I saw no dresser (or bowling ball for that matter) but across the front door the better part of a tree had fallen.
Oh dear.
The storm stopped after no more than seven minutes, the sun shining as I went downstairs to find the entire front door and walkway blocked. More large branches blocked the driveway.
Not twenty minutes later neighbors showed up to check on me, make sure I was all right. We stepped over and around branches, the front walk being occupied by a new forest.
The upper northwest corner had the gutter torn loose. Jim-the-neighbor pointed out the dent in the roof, and that's when I saw the rest of the tree, still up there.
Well.
There's not much else you can say about a tree on the roof. Well.
Simbha and I took a walk through the neighborhood, checking out the damage. A tree had fallen across our residential street, cutting off all access. A man in his late fifties got out an old-fashioned saw had it already cut in half. Outside, people cleared branches from their lawns, talked to neighbors, and passed news about when the electricity was due back (three days, eiii). I was told of an elderly woman who had a hole in her roof. A young man in his 30s and his wife stared up at their roof where some large branches had hit but not made a dent. A woman pointed out the torn shingles on her garage. Another woman needed help dragging branches, and noticed Simbha was thirsty, inviting us in to get him some water.
In roughly seven minutes the storm accomplished a surprising amount. I've met people like this.
I camped out in the living room by candlelight. The gas stove still worked, but the hot water tank only had a certain amount of hot water. The next morning traffic was a start-stop of slow politeness. All the stoplights were out. A huge tree upended--its root system exposed to the air--attracted rubberneckers.
Monday I started the process of repairs. Contacting a family on vacation to tell them that a tree fell on their house left me feeling vaguely guilty and responsible, as if I should have prevented it. I should have watched that tree more closely.
Internet services at work were down, though work was busy. I returned home to surreal darkness, stoplights invisible in the night. Another candlelight dinner and phone calls on a dying cell phone. So sick of camping out already.
Simon at work offered to let me use his shower if I ran out of hot water.
On the way home tonight, the traffic lights were on. Down our residential street I spotted one porch light. Then another. They're magical when you haven't seen them for a couple of days.
But my porch light wasn't on. Well, I know I'd reported (or my mother had reported for me) the power outage rather late. I hadn't realized that each and every house had to call in. I would be last.
Then I noticed the light on in the computer room. Jubilation! I wanted to run every appliance in the house, just because I could.
Needless to say, I accomplished nothing on my Atlantis Big Bang fic these last few days. Thank god I'm 75% done.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 02:26 pm (UTC)That's really scary. I'm so glad you're okay.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 02:07 pm (UTC)My God.
Sorry, but my internet connection is a bit... hence, delayed replies.