Fern Shubert
Brad Shackelford
Seth H. EdwardsBeaufort County, and the Coastal Plain, Endures Ice Storm
By: Stan Deatherage ( More Entries )
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The Ice Storm of the Decade in eastern North Carolina sent folks huddling for warmth of hearth and home, while staying off the road to the benefit of themselves and others. Some businesses closed, some professional offices, such as the Doctors Urgent Care, were dark, others: such as Wal-Mart Super Center were short handed, and gas marts were reportedly out of regular gas.
Understandably, the icy slush drove many inside this blustery day. Any normal outdoor Saturday projects were put on hold until this rough bit of weather found another locale to batter. It certainly put a crimp in my day: no swimming endless laps and long workouts at Lifestyles (it was closed for inclement weather). Just staying close to home and feeding the wood stove.
The ice encrusted crepe myrtles groan under the weight of the new ice: Above. The camellia blossoms will have to wait a few more weeks to show their faces here in eastern North Carolina: Below.
And as stayed close to that big, black monster - that so very hungry for big chunks of dry wood - I considered the accelerating gale of the storm’s stiffening wind. Bam … a battered bough heavy with yesterday’s soft snow and today’s hardening ice crashed down upon my roof, and settled with a thud upon the lawn, already littered with the forest colors of broken loblolly pine upon it white crunchy carpet covering the frozen grass and soil. And with each audible thud, I measured the weight of the ice that would force down the weaker limbs to a hardening ground below.
And as I contemplated the reality of nature’s impending brute force, I also considered the loss of the energy that powered my everyday existence - electricity. Ice storms are notorious for their destructive power, and as of 12:30 AM, January 31, 2010, the groaning weight of yesterday’s snow and tomorrow’s ice had yet to loosen its fury upon the electrical lines bringing me Nicola Tesla’s precious juice. At this late hour, with the thermostat at 21 degrees Fahrenheit, I am encouraged that possibly tomorrow will be another day that our power, which we often take for granted, will remain intact.
So, in the immortal words of Scarlett O’Hara, “After all, tomorrow is another day.” And like Miss Scarlett, I await for the promise of a new day, but moreover, I pray for tomorrow's power - the power of electricity.
Understandably, the icy slush drove many inside this blustery day. Any normal outdoor Saturday projects were put on hold until this rough bit of weather found another locale to batter. It certainly put a crimp in my day: no swimming endless laps and long workouts at Lifestyles (it was closed for inclement weather). Just staying close to home and feeding the wood stove.
The ice encrusted crepe myrtles groan under the weight of the new ice: Above. The camellia blossoms will have to wait a few more weeks to show their faces here in eastern North Carolina: Below.
And as stayed close to that big, black monster - that so very hungry for big chunks of dry wood - I considered the accelerating gale of the storm’s stiffening wind. Bam … a battered bough heavy with yesterday’s soft snow and today’s hardening ice crashed down upon my roof, and settled with a thud upon the lawn, already littered with the forest colors of broken loblolly pine upon it white crunchy carpet covering the frozen grass and soil. And with each audible thud, I measured the weight of the ice that would force down the weaker limbs to a hardening ground below.
And as I contemplated the reality of nature’s impending brute force, I also considered the loss of the energy that powered my everyday existence - electricity. Ice storms are notorious for their destructive power, and as of 12:30 AM, January 31, 2010, the groaning weight of yesterday’s snow and tomorrow’s ice had yet to loosen its fury upon the electrical lines bringing me Nicola Tesla’s precious juice. At this late hour, with the thermostat at 21 degrees Fahrenheit, I am encouraged that possibly tomorrow will be another day that our power, which we often take for granted, will remain intact.
So, in the immortal words of Scarlett O’Hara, “After all, tomorrow is another day.” And like Miss Scarlett, I await for the promise of a new day, but moreover, I pray for tomorrow's power - the power of electricity.
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