Post-Tropical Storm Irene

This is a blog entry I wrote yesterday but couldn't post until today because of the storm.

August 29, 2011

There is no electricity in 56,000 homes in New Brunswick right now. The power went off early this morning; trees are coming down, but the heavy rain has stopped.

The house is rarely so silent.  Strange yet comfortingly peaceful without the hum of refrigerator and freezer, without the blinking lights from the microwave, computer and television.

The only sounds are the wind gusts twisting the trees, leaves turning inside-out, shaking like fingers anxiously tapping on the wind.  A garbage can rolls and dances on the street somewhere out-of-sight;  the sound of an empty plastic barrel thump-thumping scraping over the pavement.  A clock ticks in the kitchen.  Outside, a truck's back-up beepers pierce the wind-blown silence.

The cats are agitated sitting in their usual chairs by the windows, peering out at the fierce movement in the yard and meowing at me for an explanation.

The sky is smoky grey-green, sombre and malevolent.  Periodically, the sun breaks through for seconds or minutes trying its best to make the day seem more normal.

No one is on the streets walking.  A Town of Riverview truck is slowly patrolling this older neighbourhood, looking for more downed trees.

In the distance, I hear sirens of emergency vehicles warning of their approach.

Post-tropical storm Irene is stomping her way through the Maritimes.  Storm surges, pounding 10 foot waves and heavy seas are expected, as well as flash flooding from the rainfalls.

Though the wind still twists tree branches, yanking and pulling at limbs, a neighbour (with no large trees in his yard) is mowing his lawn.  Albeit slowly, having lost his ball cap to the wind several times.  He and his small black dog are oblivious to the flying debris racing about the neighbourhood.  Amazing!

That was yesterday.  Today, the 30th of August has dawned peacefully sunny.  We are left with only bits of branches and leaves to tidy up here.  We were so fortunate.  It could have been (and sadly was, for many) much worse!