LEXINGTON, Mass. — It was a lost and boring weekend, and do I ever consider myself lucky for that. Even in our little world, the 20-minute walk on which I take our goldie, Murphy, each morning, Irene left its calling card.
Five trees fell, three harmlessly on lawns and one partially blocking a side street. The fifth, a big one, flattened a car in its driveway and stretched across the street onto a neighbor’s lawn. Just around the corner from us, one tree-sized limb broke off, wiping out another neighbor’s second-floor balcony and tearing away a gutter.
Small stuff in the big scheme of this slow-moving but monstrous storm. But it’s sobering that even this much damage can come from a mere 10 hours of buffeting by 35 to 40 mile an hour sustained winds with gusts reported at 60 to 70 mph.
I have gained a newfound respect for those who choose to live in the path of hurricanes. As for our two huge white pines, one towering over our bed, I’m going to hire a tree company to assess whether we can continue to live in their shadow.