“In early June, the world of leaves, blades and flowers explodes, and every sunset is different.”
– John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent
Memory is an inconstant thing. My memories of June will hold him in high esteem throughout my life. School is out, the cousins come to play, the outdoors awaits, freedom blossoms as if it will last forever. It begins a season of beauty and perfection, the sun shines, the perfect breeze cools the sweat on the forehead. Until it’s not so perfect.
At the beginning of last week, I drove the lawn mower and thought for the umpteenth time how lucky we are to live here. It was a sunny day, so I spent a lot of time pushing and pulling the sweeper across the pool, preparing visitors to swim that night and in the days to come.
I had been working hard since we got back from vacation in early June and I finally had things in shape. Late at night we heard strong winds, but I went to bed while Doug stayed up to keep an eye on the sky.
The next morning I woke up to broken and splintered trees with large branches lying everywhere. Entire trees had been uprooted and crushed to the ground, with several large branches on our long driveway in various places. The power was out and we were told it would be for a while.
I usually draw buckets of water before a storm, but I hadn’t been prepared for this one. A working faucet is a luxury we don’t appreciate enough.
A utility truck, stuck in our dilapidated driveway, ended up crashing at full throttle into our tractor just as Doug was freeing it. So a badly bent tractor tire rim and damaged bead caused a flat tire on the day and week when we needed this tractor the most. This turns out to be an expensive repair in many ways.
Our lawns and driveway are still a huge mess, and it’s going to take patience and a lot of muscle to get it all back together. I paid a great-niece and grandson to help extract huge amounts of heavy leafy twigs from the bottom of the pool after realizing it was a job for young people (both in body and in mind) as they claimed they were diving for money.
One day we might look back and forget the frustration while remembering how everyone pulled together to get entire communities in this region back to work. We could forget the sweltering heat without a single fan (or a shower) to cool things down, entire roads closed for days due to huge downed trees with live power lines wrapped in it all.
The dangerous work this has created for so many people is immeasurable. At present, a powerful chainsaw led by a strong body is a rare commodity.
We participated in the house-to-house generator project to save refrigerated and frozen foods from ruin. Just two days before the storm hit, we had stored a whole beef in our own freezer and were grateful to have a new generator still unpacked in our garage.
“Summer, and life is easy” really didn’t apply during the month-long stormy week. Mother Nature is going to keep us on our toes, and that never matches the pretty little wishes we have on any given day.
STAY INFORMED. REGISTER!
All agricultural news in your inbox!