Last night I uploaded my Hurricane Ike photos to share with you, and I realized that almost all of them are of broken and felled trees. It’s not that I don’t care about the damage to structures; I do. I feel compassion for people who’ve lost their homes or are dealing with roofs, leaks, flooding, and broken masonry, fences, and hearts. But I think the truly dramatic photos that capture human suffering are taken by far better photographers and are available to anyone online and on television.
Also, I just love trees. I love their grandeur. I love thinking of how they’ve been around longer than us and will be standing when we’re gone. I love the music they make when the wind blows through them. The shade they provide us–and often their bounty of nuts and fruits. The home and playground they provide to wild things. Some of the best memories of my life are of playing under trees, climbing them, and walking through them in forests.
The day before Ike came, I took some photos outside. I stared up into my elm at all the nests, unsure if they were birds’ or squirrels’ nests. I watched the doves and jays and cardinals–the pigeons and grackles that other people dislike, but I rather admire–and all the little birds whose names I don’t know, and wondered how they would fare.
After Ike, with the elm split in two and many of its branches gone, the nests are gone, too. I haven’t awakened to the sound of the mourning doves for over a week now. Today a power company crew took our tree down. I know it had to go. It was broken, and sooner or later it would fall. We’ll plant again, of course, but I will miss my pretty elm, and I know the birds and squirrels will miss it, too.
As I told Tim a few days ago, he and James have taught me to make peace with pruning because it’s necessary for new growth, so I will think of Ike as Nature pruning herself. Still, I think the loss of old friends always deserves to be noticed.
The Compound’s front elm before the hurricane.
Same tree, after the hurricane.
Within days, the leaves were brown, the limbs were brittle, and the tree was obviously dying. We knew we’d need a tree service, but of course, they are all being worked to capacity. The phone guy told me AT&T alone had contracted a large percentage of crews, many of them working in Galveston. So today, when Tom saw Centerpoint Energy working on fallen and broken trees in the neighborhood, he asked them to check ours. Fortunately, since it was a threat to power lines, they were willing to take it out for us. This was a HUGE relief, because we worried about the damage it could do if we couldn’t get it taken out in a timely manner.
The end of the elm:
As much as my heart ached, I had to laugh when the crew got a little break (trust me, they deserve it–they are working their butts off on these streets):
Goodbye, Elm. I suppose we can grow grass now.
For my family, who loves my redbud on the east lawn, here is a before-and-after:
The following are some photos I took throughout various neighborhoods last weekend when I went out with Lindsey, Rhonda, and Mark.
Not too bad. Tree down in the distance.
Two large trees fell toward each other and are completely blocking the street.
For David and Mark, an overturned portapotty, along with someone’s shredded carport roof.
Luckily, in most places, trees fell away from houses.
And some only lost limbs.
In the background, huge old tree down and blocking the street.
There has been looting, but nothing compared to what could happen in a city of four million-plus.
Needless to say, this optimistic message spraypainted before the storm didn’t pan out.
They were not open Sunday.
But they had kindly urged, “BE SAFE HOUSTON.”
This is not a pond. Allen Parkway is a main road into downtown.
It was under about eleven feet of water.
The water on Allen Parkway seems obvious.
Looking west, however, on higher elevation, it looks dry.
And that’s how stuff like this flooded and stranded car happens.
In the driver’s defense, they are called “flash floods” for a reason.
A road is passable, and in a matter of moments, with heavy rain, it can be flooded.
Especially when we’ve already accumulated a lot of rainfall over the previous hours.
This also is not a pond. It’s a grassy bowl in a park alongside Allen Parkway.
It was submerged under several feet of water.
Usually, where you see water, people are walking or lying in the sun,
and dogs are (illegally) running off leash.
Rhonda and Mark look at the flooding while Lindsey shoots.
Later, Rhonda and Lindsey were interviewed by Fox News.
They said great things about Houston.
I know everyone’s experience hasn’t been as good as The Compound’s. We were lucky to get power back quickly. We were really lucky that none of our trees fell onto our new roof. We were lucky to have friends to share their provisions with us. We were lucky most of our friends sustained no serious damage to their homes, and that no one was injured.
It isn’t that way for everyone, I know. Some people are still suffering damage and deprivation, and some will be for a long time to come. But in our neighborhood, and many of the neighborhoods we’ve visited or where our friends live, the stories are the same. People began cleaning up as soon as daylight came after a miserable hot and rainy night. Neighbors were out helping neighbors. People dragged out the grills and had block parties, cooking and sharing all their food before it could go bad. When our power returned, we kept making ice and taking it to our neighbors who had no power. Our next-door neighbor immediately began cleaning up damage that affected our yard as well as his. Another neighbor with a gas stove baked five blackberry pies from his crop and brought us a pie. We all kept checking on one another throughout the days that followed.
I was impressed with the way Mayor White was everywhere throughout the city, trying to coordinate relief efforts and keep people informed. I have been awed by the phone, cable, and power crews (many of them on loan from other states) who have worked day and night to restore power and other services. Houston’s not just a city with a lot of people, it’s a city that extends outward for dozens of miles in every direction. Getting people and businesses up and running is daunting, but the city has been, and continues to be, up to the task. Houston, Texas, is my adopted home, and I have to say I’ve never been prouder of its spirit.
And the trees: They’ll be back.
Thanks for sharing those pictures with us. We don’t have hurricanes in the UK, but it reminds me of the Great Storm of 1987, when I was 14. I woke in the night to feel the whole house shudder in the worse storm to hit the UK in over two hundred years. In one night southern England lost 15 million trees. Twenty-one years on, it’s hard to believe that it ever happened, though the landscape will never be the same. As you say, the trees will be back. Nature, like its seasons, is all about rebirth and renewal. Houston will grow again.
Thank you. What you say is very comforting.
becks, sorry for the loss of your old friend. When I was little we had a mimosa tree in the backyard of my house in Tennessee, and I spent many an hour IN the tree. I loved everything about it especially the pink wild looking blooms. Should there ever come a day when Dash and I have our own little place… there will be a mimosa tree, maybe two. Anyway, when my father died I went to my old home, and someone had cut the mimosa down. I was devastated because it was “my” tree. So I’ve had a little tree pain in my life as well.
What I propose you do is build yourself a little memorial. My Mom uses stumps like the one you currently have as the base of decoration for lack of a better word. They have a variety of flower pots on them, or a cute yard figurine while the base is surrounded by flowers. It sounds so corny, but it really looks pretty and I think a grand way to remember your elm.
I love mimosas. I’m sure they are a mess for homeowners, but they’re so pretty to look at. It’s hard to lose our favorite trees.
Tom and Tim are already talking about what they’ll put on the stump. I just keep reminding myself that we can grow grass there again. We have a small tree that James planted in one of my flowerbeds in memory of John (so sometimes I call it James’s tree, and other times, John’s tree). Tim has talked about having it moved to where the elm was.
We have another wonderful tree next to our driveway that gives us so much shade, but it has formed into three trunks. I’ve been watching it nervously for a couple of years now. The night of Hurricane Ike, it was the one I feared most. Had it come down, it would have damaged either our home or our neighbor’s. I’m thinking of having it taken out, too. As much as I love it, it wouldn’t be worth risking our homes or our lives. I’ll talk to a real tree surgeon, however, before I make any decisions about any of the remaining trees on the property, including that one.
Is a tree surgeon covered under your HMO? 🙂
Sorry about your elm, Becky. Thanks for sharing the pitures with us. They remin dme of someof th epictures I took after the huge ice storm that hit Lexington back in 2003…except without the ice.
Thank you. Ice can be vicious to trees. We’ve had a couple of big ice storms since moving here, but nothing like what I’ve seen in other states.
What really sucked is that Will and I had just signed a lease for a new apartment on Feb 14th and didn’t have to be out of the other apartment til the 28th; the storm hit the night of the 15th. The apartments were like 5 miles apart and neither apartment had electricity for four days.
As bad as the damage was, though, some of the trees were so beautiful glistening in the sun.
I hate to see beautiful trees get destroyed.
One person on my F-List lives in Houston and she and her husband were without power for 12/13 days. I’m such a baby that I feel like I’m being abused if my power goes out for a few hours. No, I’m not Grizzly Adams, I’m afraid.
You are a total sweetie for making ice for your neighbors. Do you guys have a generator? They’re not cheap, but they are so useful in extreme situations like this.
I feel for your friend.
We don’t have a generator. We have thought of getting one. Mostly on the list right now (from lessons learned!) are a couple of battery-powered lanterns and an old-fashioned coffeepot that can be used on the stove. And also–since a hurricane gives a few days’ warning–make and store ice.
We did very well with getting rid of food beforehand, so we didn’t lose much. And we had lots of batteries and working flashlights and radios.
Generators that are hooked up to natural gas and that will come on and turn off automatically when the power comes on and off are much better than the ones you have to manually turn on and run on (more expensive) gasoline.
When I lived in East Lansing, my power went off a couple of times, but my building was rigged so that you didn’t lose your water! Yay! I HATE not being able to wash my hands/flush the toilet/take a shower, etc. To me, that’s pretty much the worse part of being without power.
Thanks for the pics, Becky.
It’s amazing how much help comes from other states in times like this.
When we had the big ice storm that took out power to so many people across the state for so long, there were power crews from all over, helping get things going again.
You’re welcome. Everybody hears the bad stories–and they are true, too–but it’s equally important to give praise to the people, governments, and companies who pitch in and help.
amazing photos
It is so sad to see all of the damage and know that many people are really suffering. Seeing your photos – especially of the flooding so close to your area of town – makes it sink in a little more as to the impact to so many.
I’m so glad you guys are all safe and sound and where able to ride the storm out together.
Re: amazing photos
If you gotta be in a hurricane, Rhonda, Lindsey, and Sugar are your girls. I wanted The Compound to be as good a refuge for them as Lynne’s home was to us during Hurricane Rita, but here–as there–it all ends up being family pitching in together.
When we lost a huge tree in NY, I felt bad for the birds, so my mom let me use the stump as a birdseed dinner table. The smallest birds, for the most part, have the best vision, so they find the seeds first. Then bigger birds notice. When we started having red-wing blackbirds and bronze-headed cowbirds that normally didn’t visit backyards in the suburbs, my mom told me that news of my dinner table was spreading far and wide. I was young enough to believe that birds talked about where they got a meal. Eventually squirrels chased all the birds away and ate the food themselves, but that was okay. They lost a tree, too.
A great story (sad about the tree, of course). I can’t do birdseed at all because of the squirrels. I had one so-called squirrel-proof bird feeder that the squirrel actually dismantled to get at the birds’ food! They are clever.
I’m still in awe of the water on Allen Parkway. I’m going to try to get my pictures up this afternoon. We had a lot of trees down here too, but not much damage to structures.
I look forward to the photos.
Astonishing, horrible and awe-inspiring at the force of nature pictures!
I like your different viewpoint – I’d been thinking how awful of nature to turn on itself in this way, but perhaps your idea of a good pruning is a better one. If only it wasn’t done so violently.
However, I’m also glad that you can get out and about safely now. Thanks so much for sharing.
*hugs the tree hugger*
Aww… this made me a little teary eyed. *snif*
i meant to comment on this the other day, but obviously didn’t – however, the pictures are still amazing. good and bad, but still amazing.
Such a pity about the trees. Mother Nature knows better than I do, so I try to just see what she has planned after such tragedy.