Post Irene


Been away — wrapped up in house-hunting (and all that entails), house-selling (even more entailing), and Hurricane Irene.  Glad to report that things are well on all fronts.  We’ve found a house we like and have put an offer on it.  Likewise, we have an offer on our house.  As for Irene…

We are fortunate folks.  We received not nearly as much rain as was predicted (2-4″ as opposed to 10-12″).  High winds, but only tropical-storm-high, not hurricane-high.  Largest gusts were in the 60-70 mph range.  Nothing to sneeze at, by any means, but certainly not 110 mph.  We had many small branches come down, but lost no trees and got no water in the basement.  We lost electricity at 8:00 am on Sunday and it didn’t return until 7:00 pm on Wednesday, but that was okay, too.  And, in its way, a blessing in disguise.

Imagine it:  very little traffic due to the storm and loss of power, so the area was a) quiet, and b) dark — so dark you could really see the stars for a change.  Sure it was a bummer to have to heat water on the stove to wash dishes and take sponge baths, but we have a gas stove, so we had hot water as well as hot drinks and hot food.  We talked more than we have in months and played board games.  We got a reprieve from computer time and television time — not that we watch much tv to begin with, although Ed does have an umbilicus that leads to his lap-top.

All in all, it was a nice sort of “get-away.”  Beyond our gratitude for blessings we received from the storm, I have two things to report:

1)  At the height of the storm, I looked out to see a large hummingbird (I know; it sounds silly, but he — or she — was really the largest hummingbird I’ve ever seen) ducking under the eaves, looking for a perch out of the rain.  Brave little soul.  I hope he made it through the storm all right.  All I can figure is that maybe his nest got blown out of the cedar tree (that’s where they seem to congregate; I think they like the berries).  At any rate, it was a tiny sign of hope midst the down-pour.

2)  Also at the height of the storm, with the wind howling, I could still hear a robust little cricket fiddling away along the foundation of the house.  “Fie the rain!”  he cried as he bowed.  “Dance!”  I took his words to heart.

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About Melissa Crandall

Longer ago than I care to admit--although I will--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and media tie-in novels. Since then, I've moved on to narrative nonfiction, speculative fiction, and essays. I write to explore and understand the world around me, the things I see and experience nearby or from a distance. If I shake myself up, cool. If I shake you up, even better. Not gratuitously--what's the point in that?--but to set what I know, or think I know, on end and realize, "Well, doesn't it look different from this side!" My work is neither sexually explicit nor graphically violent. Let's face it - your imaginations will come up with things far worse than anything I could write, no matter how descriptive. Besides, it's just not my thing. I live in Connecticut with my supportive husband Ed, a cat named Ruby who might just think she's a dog, and an epileptic Australian shepherd named Holly who isn't quite certain anymore who she is, except she knows she loves her mommy.
This entry was posted in Connecticut, Essays, Hummingbirds, Hurricane Irene, Melissa Crandall, Writer, Writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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