Let there be light
Eleven days later, power was restored. Amen. Never thought I'd be so happy to do laundry. But let's have a look back at Day One, shall we?
This tree fell at 3 p.m. on Sept. 18, five hours before Isabel's full force would reach us. As that's when our power outtage began, I think this oak had something to do with it. The house was immediately condemned, pending inspection; later that Friday we watched a crane lift it out (but I'd left my camera at home, just around the corner). The force of the storm downed two adjacent trees as well.
So that was one side of my block. (All photos were taken within a block of our house, where only a downspout blew off and one crape myrtle branch broke.) We walked around to the other and saw this, and this, and this little guy who appears to be wondering what the H' happened to his house:
The avenue's oaks were ready to tumble -- a look at their exposed roots and trunks revealed many were diseased. The remarkable thing is that of the dozen down, none hit a building there, and we only saw three crushed cars.
Over on the other side of the river, my coworker had one fall on her century-old Victorian, to the tune of ~$80,000 damage. By the time I got there the tree was so dried as to make for uninteresting photography, but I did shoot what Bev considered her little unscathed miracle.
[Can you believe that crushed malt liquor bottle? OK, it was about three blocks away. When we returned from our walk and I was reviewing the pix in my camera, turned out I'd moved before the digital had done its thing, and I didn't have the shot. So I jogged back to find it, dodging trunks and gawkers, and was despondent from a distance when its colors were no longer apparent. I thought someone must've taken it for a souvenir. Luckily, it had only blown over, so I did reposition it, but barely.]