Flashes of Panic

Returning down the dirt road to the Bear’s Den on Sunday’s run, A. and I heard a crack, and something about the landscape in front of us looked shaky all of a sudden. When I realized it was the telephone poles wobbling, I swore and bolted for the opposite side of the road. They stopped shaking in a minute, but looked tense. Just a few steps more, and we could see where a decent-sized pine tree (I’d guess about a thirty-year pine) had uprooted and come down across the lines between us and the cottage. The power lines were holding it up off an SUV which was (at the moment) untouched. Startling, but not fatal.

We skirted around through some yards to get to the right side of the road. Of the five lines on each pole, two had snapped at the pole on the far side of our driveway and were coiled around the foot of the pole just on the near side. They didn’t appear to be live. The phones appeared to be working, but my cousin observed that the power in the cottage was out. We went out and watched the fire and public works people arrive and try to figure out what to do. One of the families more closely affected (next door to the tree) was buzzing around, with one man standing in the road watching the tree as though he could keep it from slipping more, and shooing his older female relatives who persisted in standing directly under the power lines (thought not under the tree.) Then, observing that we wouldn’t be showering or washing dishes for a while (gas water heater; electric pump) we headed downtown.

My cousin observed that as more of the lots are bought by families who haven’t been here generations (as ours has) they get cleared for larger and more comfortable buildings than our modest cottage. (About two notches up from “shack,” I suppose.) With fewer trees, the root systems (especially in this sandy soil) are weakened, and fewer trees bear more of the wind like we had on Sunday. He expects more blow-downs. “Actually,” he said, “this house has been pretty lucky when it comes to fallen trees.”

Now playing: New Enemy from All of Our Names by Sarah Harmer