This morning I awoke to the sound of cracking ice and splintering wood. Somewhere in my back yard a significant portion of a tree was crashing to the ground. A glance outside the window confirmed it-- the whole world was covered in a thick layer of ice. Last night the temperature dropped and froze the still-falling rain onto the town. At midnight it was still raining. By dawn each house, car, mailbox, and blade of grass was encased in a sheath of ice up to an inch thick, the wind wreaking havoc on every street. The trees got it the worst—Ada looks like a disaster area, like a tornado came through and carefully thrashed each branch until something gave way. Entire neighborhoods are covered in fallen limbs, power lines are down, and people are standing in their front yards just shaking their heads. The power is out, of course, and will remain so for days. The cleanup will take much longer than that. It’s no tsunami, but its not good, either. Mary Pat and I drove slowly around town, weaving the truck under trees bowed over with the weight of new ice, ooing and aahing when we saw some branch that had snapped in the night, exposing the bright meaty woodgrain. Surprisingly enough, there’s almost no damage to any houses--it was an aesthetic disaster only. So we’re lucky, but we’re about to head to the next town over and see if their power is running. The show must go on. See the photos here. (um, wasn't I here last week? I thought so.)
