Saturday, April 30, 2011

The Wonder of Wind

The roof was lifting--literally.  What a noise.  Pounding, ripping, flapping, raging.
I'd called ahead. 

-Yes, the power is out, there is no hot water or hair dryers, but yes, come ahead if you can pay in cash.

We all know a woman will suffer for vanity, and this was a classic case in point.  After four months in the nether-regions of Exuma, I had to get my hair cut.  Getting there was a challenge.  I had to stop my car and clear the roadway twice.  Certain roads were closed off completely, and in some instances, I had to wait my turn in line, driving towards oncoming traffic to avoid fallen trees, branches and piles of rubble.  My arrival was marked by whole sheets of shingles flying off the roof of the salon. 

Winds reached over 100 kilometers an hour in our neighbourhood, ripping up century trees by their roots, snapping others in half, throwing them through fences, windows, roofs and walls, tearing down power lines, exploding transformers and generally wrecking violent havoc in every direction.  Schools dismissed early, shops and malls closed their doors.  Traffic lights were no longer cuing drivers when it was safe to proceed at intersections.  The power was out for 12 hours to four days, depending on location and prioities.
52,000 homes are still without power tonight.

The question on many minds was--
How will we cook dinner?

The bigger question was--
Will we have power to watch The Royal Wedding?

While Southern Ontario was  merely buffetted by high winds, Alabama was devestated by winds of tornado propotions.  What amounted to inconvenience here, was nothing compared with the loss of so many lives, homes, buisnesses and livelihoods in the cities where the monsters touched down.  My heart goes out to the families dealing with such painful loss.

  Please forgive today's photos taken with my cell phone.  The quality is not up to my usual standards, but they will at least give you an idea of what the streets around my house looked like this week. 

What you can not hear, is the antiphanal roar of chainsaws, singing in chorus from one back yard to another as people began the process of rescuing their gardens, their cars or their roofs from burdening tree trunks.

Some ingenious people tried to prevent trouble by strapping their trees to something they hoped would hold them from toppling.

Did your neighbourhood feel the effects of violent weather this week?  Is your house and home secure, or are you picking up the pieces today?  Maybe you are still shovelling out from more spring snow, or are you mowing the grass yet?  However life finds you, I wish you well.

Post a Comment