SECURING MY TRASH CANS, AND OTHER STORM-RELATED DETAILS

Another nasty wind storm with horrible high tides and tremendous rain is hitting us here.  The coast is flooded (and will likely flood again and again before this is over).  Trees and telephone poles are down around the area.  Property is taking a beating.

I might lose my recycling bins in the wind, but my trash cans are firmly tied to the fence post ... unless the fence takes off.  Other than that, though, now that I'm home, I am relatively safe (I hope).  Getting home is a bit of an adventure, but I make it unscathed, for the most part.

Early this morning it all starts with the rain that arrives later than the forecasters predict, and there isn't any wind as I drive eight miles southeast to work.  By the time I get to the parking lot, the rain is really coming down, and the wind is so strong that all I can hear as I walk/blow from my car door to the school door is a long, unceasing, unearthly rumbling from the world around me. 

The wind is actually growling.

When I get inside the building, the sound of the rain on the roof above my classroom is unnerving.  The windswept torrents creak and swirl and pound in a way that sounds like relay racers have taken over the ceiling.  Off and on, over and over, all day long the sound of the rain ebbs and swells, but it never stops.

Just after lunch an announcement is made for anyone parked out front (mostly visitors and traveling staff) to please move their cars elsewhere.  My students and I look out of my front-facing windows when lights start flashing, and we realize that the police and the town trucks are blocking the access road for parents and buses.  One of the very tall trees has snapped completely in half and if swinging its sheared half from another tree that is also breaking in half.  All of the monstrously tall trees around them are swaying dangerously far and seem to threaten snapping themselves.

We are essentially trapped.  Well, teachers aren't because we can leave from a rear access, but the bus loop is completely blocked.  Technically, since the kiddos are trapped, we are trapped with them as supervisors.  Eventually the debris is cleared enough to let some parents through with their cars, but the buses are rerouted.  We herd the children into the main hallway that connects our school to another school, and work at heralding them onto buses in the makeshift staging area.

I leave soon after the children because it's damn dangerous out there.  On my way home, I drive around two downed trees, past a third one that has already been chopped up but simply dumped on the edge of the road, and count at least two dozen branches down.  I drive over a lot of debris and fight the winds the entire way.

Shortly after I arrive home, the winds abate.  I think this means we are in the clear, but I am mistaken.  About an hour later, the winds pick up exactly where they left off, and the noise from outside is unsettling and often deafening.  I live within spitting distance of the railroad tracks, but the wind sounds like a constant freight train that never ends.

Be safe out there, folks.  Sometimes it's all hype, and I rag on the weather forecasters for their Doom and Gloom.  Tonight, however, I'm not sure they emphasized the strength of this storm quite enough.  If a tree doesn't come through my roof tonight and squish me while (IF) I sleep, or if I end up somewhere over the rainbow wearing ruby slippers, at least I am safe and secure in knowing I did my due diligence in securing my trash cans.

Little things like this can be important in the event of disaster clean-up, especially if the officials will need a receptacle for my body after they pull it out of a tree a few miles away where it will certainly land if these winds keep up.