Copyright 2009 Lydia Hinshaw
The remains of Thursday's tree-fall
The remains of Thursday's tree-fallORMOND BEACH, FL -- Thursday morning I was about to leave for my exercise class at the Y when I realized I'd forgotten to pack a clean T-shirt, so I went back to my bedroom and got one to stuff in my bike bag.
Then I couldn't remember if there were any socks in my gym locker, so I went back again and grabbed a pair, just in case.
The whole delay might have taken 30-40 seconds.
Finally I rolled down the driveway on my bicycle, checked traffic (none) and pulled into the street. Almost immediately I heard a loud crack followed by a crashing noise as a giant tree fell in the street a block in front of me -- about the distance I'd have been able to ride if I hadn't gone back twice to grab additional items.
The tree, more accurately a big chunk of the tree, came down in the yard of my neighbor Betty, a widow who often works in her yard in the morning. I rolled up just as she was walking out her front door to see what the noise was.
"Well, there goes my shade," she said.
As we inspected this suddenly very inconvenient oak, she reminded me that another large chunk of this same treacherous tree had crushed her next-door neighbor's car during Hurricane Charley, five years ago.
This time, the falling timber had not hit anything other than the crescent-shaped hedge she keeps so neatly trimmed. The hedge, in fact, was now unidentifiable in the tangle of green.
This tree-falling phenomenon happens around here, from time to time. A towering oak can look healthy, when it's actually all hollowed out inside. When there's a lot of rain, as we've had this summer, the hollow part traps water and eventually becomes too heavy to stand up anymore. And so it breaks off, without warning.
Some years ago in city adjacent to mine, a woman was killed when she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, driving her pickup past a tree that chose just that instant to come down.
Betty and I discussed who she should call. I suggested the police non-emergency number, since they would certainly know what to do. I headed on off to my class.
By the time Prince Charming passed by an hour later, a work crew with trucks and other heavy equipment was on the scene, and an hour after that, the street was clear, although there is still about 30 years worth of Florida firewood in Betty's yard.
Then I couldn't remember if there were any socks in my gym locker, so I went back again and grabbed a pair, just in case.
The whole delay might have taken 30-40 seconds.
Finally I rolled down the driveway on my bicycle, checked traffic (none) and pulled into the street. Almost immediately I heard a loud crack followed by a crashing noise as a giant tree fell in the street a block in front of me -- about the distance I'd have been able to ride if I hadn't gone back twice to grab additional items.
The tree, more accurately a big chunk of the tree, came down in the yard of my neighbor Betty, a widow who often works in her yard in the morning. I rolled up just as she was walking out her front door to see what the noise was.
"Well, there goes my shade," she said.
As we inspected this suddenly very inconvenient oak, she reminded me that another large chunk of this same treacherous tree had crushed her next-door neighbor's car during Hurricane Charley, five years ago.
This time, the falling timber had not hit anything other than the crescent-shaped hedge she keeps so neatly trimmed. The hedge, in fact, was now unidentifiable in the tangle of green.
This tree-falling phenomenon happens around here, from time to time. A towering oak can look healthy, when it's actually all hollowed out inside. When there's a lot of rain, as we've had this summer, the hollow part traps water and eventually becomes too heavy to stand up anymore. And so it breaks off, without warning.
Some years ago in city adjacent to mine, a woman was killed when she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, driving her pickup past a tree that chose just that instant to come down.
Betty and I discussed who she should call. I suggested the police non-emergency number, since they would certainly know what to do. I headed on off to my class.
By the time Prince Charming passed by an hour later, a work crew with trucks and other heavy equipment was on the scene, and an hour after that, the street was clear, although there is still about 30 years worth of Florida firewood in Betty's yard.
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