After the Storm

Early this morning, a fierce storm blew up the coast of Maine, knocking out power to more than 217,000 homes. (A notable percentage in a state that has a little over one million people.) In coastal communities, especially in southern Maine, trees came crashing down, roads were filled with debris, and schools were closed.

In central Maine, where we live, there was wind and rain, but the storm lost steam as it came inland. As far as I can tell, there are no widespread power outages in our area, and there was nary a flicker of lights at our cozy house in the woods.

We knew the storm was coming, and we were ready. The larder is well stocked with cans of baked beans, soup, cookies, crackers, and peanut butter. We have a little camp stove to heat the soup and beans.  In our cellar, we have big covered buckets filled with water because for us, no power means no water. Fortunately, we did not have to resort to our stash of storm supplies.

I am an ocean person, and once upon a time, I longed to live closer to the coast so that I could go for frequents walks on the beach. Not anymore. In these days of climate crisis, the storms along the Maine coast have gotten stronger and more frequent. Once upon a time, when I was young, October in Maine used to be a placid month, known more for its brilliant foliage than for powerful storms that would surge up the coast and take down trees. But for the past several years, October has been a month that has brought at least one corker of a tempest that has knocked out power, primarily in the southern part of the state right by the sea.

Occasionally, in central Maine, we get hit, but not with anywhere near the frequency that southern Maine and the coast do. I am glad I live sixty miles inland, and even if I suddenly came into money, I would not move closer to the ocean. Sad, especially for someone like me who loves the sea, but this is our new reality.

Around our house, the wind—thank goodness—did not take down any trees, but it did take down more than a few leaves, and there is now a carpet rather than a sprinkle.

Some of the trees are downright bare.

But a peak through branches at our house reveals that despite the wind and rain, there are lovely leaves left on some of the trees.

And best yet, the crickets are still singing.

 

49 thoughts on “After the Storm”

  1. Lovely carpet of leaves – your house looks so cosy.
    We are having incessant rain, meaning that the maize crops are standing in water and can not be harvested, thousands of pounds being lost by our farmers (my daughter and her husband included). Winter feed for their dairy cattle will not be so plentiful as a result. But thankfully no tempests. I sympathise with everyone at the effect of these terrible storms.

  2. Yes I agree with you.. much as I too love the coast, we are happy to go there for holidays but we wouldn’t live there… the weather is too unpredictable & the storms along the coast cause quite dramatic erosion in some places. Best wishes to all the people without power in Maine.

  3. I’m glad you were spared the worst. I love the multi-hued leaf carpet – tempting to swish right through them! (Sadly, my days of jumping in piles of leaves are long over. 😉 )

  4. Glad you are safe and sound, Laurie. Out here, living on the coast comes with tsunami hazards. As much as I love the Pacific, I am glad we are inland, up in the Cascade foothills, well east of I-5. Earthquake is always a possibility, as is volcanic activity. I have read when the Big One comes, west of I-5 will be toast.

    1. Me, too. Maine has been tremendously affected by climate change. The Gulf of Maine has become so warm that crabs are moving in and lobsters are moving north. I’ve lived long enough to see many changes. Will probably write a post about it.

  5. That carpet of leaves is so gorgeous. And I’m glad your beautiful red house still has some leafy trees around it for later enjoyment. I, too, once wanted to live on the coast, but not so much anymore! Glad you didn’t lose power.

  6. Although we have had plenty of rain here, it feels like autumn is still on the way – almost all the leaves are still on the trees. Those storms sound dreadful. I’m glad you were well-prepared and well-protected.

  7. It was a wild storm! I really, actually, like wild weather, as long as I am hunkered down with my guy and my cats, and we have everything we need. But now we have to get outside and clean up . . .

    1. I don’t mind wild storms as long as there is no danger of the power going out. In southern Maine, some people still don’t have power. No fun! Sounds as though you didn’t lose your power. Happy clean-up. I’ll be out sweeping and raking. A glorious day, and I’m looking forward to it.

  8. That wind blew past us too. Mostly twigs and leaves down. Yesterday the Fall leaves suddenly looked like Fall leaves (previously just still green or turned brown from the dry spell). Rain today, which we shall send your way. We will see if our trees are bear tomorrow. I do have my eye on several dead trees along our HOA roads, which will come down. The question is whether a storm will do this, and probably block the road, or the land owner will do this in a controlled way. I have suggested this to said owner, with mostly procrastination results. But, he does not live here full time… get my drift? – Oscar

  9. 25 years ago we moved here from a village on a estuary in Southern England. There were slipways where small boats could be launched and if a storm was forecast when it would also be a high tide, boards were put across them to hold back the water. Even then we were glad to move as the top boards were being put in more and more often. A couple of years ago the railway line that runs along the top of the sea wall was washed away a few miles further along in a particularly violent storm. Like you I love the idea of living by the sea and miss it but am relieved not to have to worry about the safety of my home.

  10. Beautiful colors and singing crickets sound wonderful, but wow, the rest sounds scary. You live in a beautiful place, but oh the weather. We on the other hand have hot, dry winds, putting all on edge for potential wildfires. Our poor planet, Laurie. I’m so busy these days, wishing I had time to write and read blog posts all day long. I enjoyed this brief visit. I hope you are doing well.

    1. Yes, sigh. Our poor planet. We are such a scourge. Do we have to be this way? We are doing well, and my blog will be here whenever you have the time. Take care, take care! I hope the winds die down and there are no horrible wildfires. Last year, with our hearts in our throats, we watched the burning on the news. So terrible!

      1. Alas, we’ve had another terrible fire season, but no loss of life this year, so far, and I’m so grateful for that. More lost homes, though, horses and livestock, small businesses. Such heartbreak.

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