The Trees Took A Beating

I went to bed with high hopes. Those were dashed between 3 and 4 am when I woke to the clatter of a roaring wind bouncing projectiles about.

The trees took a beating. This is just one small sample of the carnage throughout.

One expects a dead and decomposing hemlock to fall down, hurricane or not. I would also expect thirty feet of top to land on the ground and it did not. Steel cables of a grapevine have kept it aloft. The rest of the tree needs to snap to finish the act.

My first look out the window saw flashing DOT trucks stop at the top of my drive. It was still blowing. The rain was still falling. I opted not to intrude. A small trackhoe rolled off a trailer. What were they up to?

A half dead maple let go of another good chunk. They have been dealing with pieces of this tree for a decade.

Quick as can be, it was cut up and pushed into the gardens for me. Traffic was now freed to proceed. Multiply this pile by a factor of ten. That is what will need to be cut up, picked up and cleaned up in the wild cultivated gardens.

This is the biggest tree smacking event in my decade on the mountain. It is not something unusual. It happens, mostly in the winter, sometimes with wicked summer thunder storms. The quantity of damage this time surpasses any other event.

Hurricanes are not supposed to pack this much of a punch so far inland. That is unusual.

The Tall Flower Meadow got twisted. It needs to dry and fluff on its own before I attempt any repairs. It will bloom on, upright and perky or not.

I'll start by removing the branches that have landed on top. There are another six weeks of Lush goodness in there. I'll do what I can to make it as fluffy as it is willing to be.