When I was growing up at Castle Crags I used to enjoy walking the park roads after a big storm to see how high the streams were, listen to them roar, and see whether they were muddy, enjoying the power of nature.
Today, following our two days of icy rain, I was anxious to do the same, to see the damage but to also appreciate the beauty. I could see some from our house but wanted to walk. The first thing I needed to do, though, was take my car to get the oil changed, tires rotated and balanced, etc. It was overdue. My husband had de-iced my car so the door would open and had warmed it up so the windshield was no longer covered with ice. It takes about 20 minutes to get to the shop but even though the sun was shining the trip didn’t melt any more ice. Two different people at the dealership spoke to me, with big smiles, about how they liked the ice on my car, particularly the icicles hanging from the mirrors and other edges. Obviously the temperatures were pretty cold this morning.
When I got back home I put on a down jacket and took my usual neighborhood walk, being careful to walk on the street when heavily laden trees seemed to bend too far over the sidewalks. Under the trees small chunks of melting ices clattered down. It was like walking through a world of crystal. Sunlight sparkled and glittered from grass, shrubs and trees. Now, at 3:30 in the afternoon, the Asian pear tree in our neighbor’s yard still glistens.
This beauty was a stark contrast to the evidence of damage from the weight of the ice. In many places it looks as if bombs have been dropped damaging, not the houses, but just the foliage.
Tree after tree has broken, with branches and trunks hanging over fences or blocking sidewalks. In some cases, a tree in one yard has fallen into their neighbor’s yard. When I was walking along one street three tree-company trucks, pulling trailers, drove the other direction.
We were so lucky to not lose power. Our lines are underground but power lines leading into town are above ground and many people have been without electricity for several days. All it
takes is for a tree in a wooded neighborhood to fall on the lines. One friend, who lives on a more rural edge of town, posted that the temperature in their house this morning was 39-degrees and they were going to a motel for a couple of days, until their electricity is on again.