Silence. . .

Eerie, dead calm silence.  No birds trilling, no tree leaves rustling in the breeze, no frogs singing in the numerous puddles.  Just unnatural silence.  Then, within a half hour, roaring wind, pounding rain, tearing wood, crashing trees.  Then, more silence.  But the second silence was a technological silence: no electricity, no Internet.  The people were not silent, the people were busy surveying damage, checking on neighbors, calling insurance agents, firing up generators and chainsaws.

A huge storm moved through this little place here around 5 p.m. on Sunday evening.  It had been a nice day, if a bit hot and humid. Okay, a lot hot and humid.  Temperature near ninety, and humidity somewhere up there to match.  The kind of weather that predictably breeds storms during Michigan summers.  The storm itself was expected; the magnitude was not.

While this little place here did not sustain any damage to buildings, trees, or other possessions (even a tarp left on the ground behind the garage was unmoved by the gale force winds), we were without power for 48 hours.  Changes in living needed to be made.  Opening the fridge and freezer were forbidden in order to keep the contents as cold as possible as long as possible.  Eating was done from the shelves of the pantry and cellar (55 degree apple juice is mighty quenching when you are conserving water).  If it's yellow, let it mellow, also applied to if it was brown, with flushing being done about once every 12 hours or so.  No electricity means no well pump, so all the water you have is what is in the well tank.  Use it sparingly.

Several of our neighbors had many trees broken or blown down.  Some had damage to their outbuildings.  A few miles to the Southeast, part of a dairy barn collapsed, killing some cows.  The roof of an indoor riding arena at another neighbor's house was partially torn off, and one wall now leans in at an angle.  We were lucky at this little place here to only have the inconvenience of no electricity.

During daylight hours, we worked outside, cutting up fallen trees and hauling brush home from neighbors who did not have chainsaws or whose health prevented them from being able to do the clean-up themselves.  DH ran the saw, the kids and I toted branches, and the cut-up tree trunks and limbs to the trailer, loaded it, tied it down, took it home, unloaded into a 'firewood' pile and a 'bonfire' pile, and drove it back down the road to load again.  Six loads the first day, more on consecutive days as the weather and our 'free time' after work allowed.

In the evenings, we used oil lamps to cast a dim light on the dining room table and played games of Scrabble.  I won them all :0)

We went to bed earlier than usual, lamplight being hard on the eyes after a few rounds of word making.  A hard time, a busy time, but also a good time.  Good neighbors, good friends, good family ties.