The sun is almost out and it has stopped raining and the the wind is still. A strange period of calm. Tim says we are in the eye of the storm. According to the experts, the storm made landfall at 12:30 pm at Westerly, Rhode Island, about 17 miles east of us. The city where our daughter was born. Where we go to see bigger waves at Napatree Point. Where we used to go to see Shakespeare-in-the-Park. (Wilcox Park) We will see if storm conditions return.
Early this morning as the rain started up, a bedraggled blue jay landed on the railing of our balcony and peered inside. I wished him luck in the storm and off he flew. I forgot all about him. Well, he just came back and gave us another look. He looked just as disheveled as he did earlier. After checking me out he flew into the arborvitae and gave an unusual call, a clear whistle. I did some research and found that it might have been “an alarm for a low-intensity threat.” Interesting…
We still have power. The storm track has just changed again, a little more to the west. The eye, what’s left of it, is over Block Island and is very close to us now. It might make landfall right over us! The tropical storm is disintegrating as it travels over our cooler waters. We’re getting heavy rain and 46 mph winds from the north, which are pushing the the storm surge from our coastline out to Long Island’s north shore. The full moon/high tide/storm surge combo won’t be quite as bad as they thought it could be. It’s fun watching the news people on TV standing outside in familiar spots, getting drenched from the wind-driven rain and with dramatic waves crashing behind them. Honestly, this is no worse than some of our nor’easters — so far.
I was going to post the latest predicted storm track but the the image wouldn’t save for me, so I went to WikiArt to find a painting…
It’s 6:15 am, we have wind and rain, temperature 74°F (23°C), Pressure 30 inHg, wind moderate at 20 mph. The outer bands of Hurricane Henri have arrived. The worst of it for us should be between 9 am and 4 pm. Yesterday afternoon the track started moving east again and when I woke up this morning it had moved again back to a predicted landfall east of us in Rhode Island, just over the state line.
My sister Beverly and I were reminiscing on the phone last night. Back in 1991, when she called our old New England Cape Codder grandparents after Hurricane Bob, Grandfather scolded her for worrying. “This house has been standing here since 1880 and it isn’t about to fall apart now.” He was 86 at the time and taking care of our grandmother, who was quite ill with dementia, at home. It was good remembering his calm and steady approach to life.
If we don’t lose power I will post weather updates from time to time. I think Grandfather would approve! 🙂
At 5:00 pm yesterday our cell phone alarms went off in unison to alert us that the hurricane watch is now a hurricane warning. (Even though Henri hasn’t even become a hurricane yet, but it likely will.) We’ve watched the projected path move more and more to the west. For a time the eye was due to go right over us! But now it looks like we will be on the windy side of the storm. All campgrounds in the state will close at 4:00 pm today. Eastern Point Beach will be closed at 6:00 pm and Groton is opening its shelter at that time. We will stay put unless ordered to leave — it will “only” be a category 1 storm. It is recommended that residents along four streets close to the beach evacuate. So now we wait and see!
Woke up this morning under a hurricane watch. The path of Tropical Storm Henri is inching ever closer to us. Bob Maxon, my favorite weekday morning meteorologist, tells us that the last hurricane to make landfall in Connecticut was Gloria in 1985 and the last to make landfall in New England, was Bob in 1991. Right now Henri is making a beeline to Narragansett, Rhode Island, one county away from us. Last night it was aiming for Buzzards Bay, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. (Even though the outer bands of Hurricane/Superstorm Sandy hit us hard in 2012 it never made landfall here.)
This may be the first time I ride out a hurricane with my husband at home. Both times in the past his employment kept him at work for the duration. For Gloria, the kids and I evacuated to my parents’ house, 45 miles inland. I was pregnant with the baby I lost a month later. For Bob, we evacuated to a friend’s house about 8 miles inland. It was only three months after my mother died. This one will probably arrive as a category 1 hurricane so we probably won’t need to evacuate. Tim’s retired now. I suppose we will be glued to the TV and our laptops until we lose power…
Between the humidity, alarming pandemic numbers and medical appointments, it’s been a very long week. But Sunday evening we did take a saunter through the heaviness at Avery Point and enjoyed taking a few pictures. My blogging motivation is pretty low so I’ve been dragging my heels about getting around to sharing them.
“Erdoded Stacks” by Matthew Weber
“Thru The Black Hole” by Nick Santoro (Champlain Limestone & Vermont Marble)
I do love my beach roses and the light this time of year is flawless…
I also saw signs of autumn approaching, reminding me of the pleasure I had last year exploring the woods, taking so many pictures in the cool, crisp fall air.
Rough weather ahead for Sunday! Time to batten down the hatches…
8.11.21 ~ New London Ledge Light from Eastern Point
Air quality alerts, heat advisories, ugh… We came out of our nest twice yesterday, once to go to the farmers market and after supper down to the beach. Not much going on there and we didn’t stay long because of the oppressive humidity. Walking was a struggle. No sea breeze…
New London Harbor Light from Eastern Point
only one gull on the rocks
When we heard some vigorous splashing we looked over in the river to see a gull taking a bath. Was he cleaning off or cooling down? I’m amazed these pictures came out at all!
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a tiny least sandpiper running around on the sand. He’s only six inches long and this is the only picture that came out! So cute!
least sandpiper
Back inside, we’ve been working on jigsaw puzzles again…
Boatman, I am a river I am a mountain, to the sea Boatman, taker, and giver Can you deliver for me? And can I forever run free? ~ Livingston Taylor ♫ (Boatman) ♫
For our walk on Wednesday we went to Wilcox Park to enjoy another nice weather day. It was cloudy but not humid yet — yay! (And no poison ivy!)
nonbreeding male mallard
“The people shall have a park.” So saying, in 1898 Harriet Wilcox purchased and donated to the Memorial and Library association the seven acre Rowse Babcock estate in the heart of Westerly’s business district. Established as a memorial to her husband Stephen Wilcox, the moving force behind the building of the library, the park was expanded through several smaller additions until 1905. At this time, the purchase of the adjacent nine acre Brown estate essentially fixed the park’s boundaries as we know them today. … Wilcox Park features a beautiful landscape defined by an open meadow area with surrounding trees, a fish pond, monuments and perennial gardens. ~ Wilcox Park website
very old white oak
This white oak, above and below, is the oldest tree in Wilcox Park. The second picture is taken from the top of a hill. We climbed many granite steps to get to the top of the hill on the steep side, and then followed a path down the more sloping other side.
white oak from top of hill
a sugar maple with personality
This solitary little pink water lily caught my eye from a distance. When we got close to the pond to take its picture we were subjected to a disturbing tirade from a windbag pontificating against masks and vaccines. Talk about shattering a peaceful scene. Ignoring the know-it-all, we quickly moved on to the other end of the park.
back at the fish pond
fading rose
I don’t know what this is…
…but I fell in love with it
I don’t think we were the only ones who had fled the scene. There were lots more people strolling around near the lovely gardens where we ended up.
On the way home from the park we could see an osprey sitting in a nest on the osprey platform in the marsh in Paffard Woods, a preserve of the Avalonia Land Conservancy. By the time we pulled safely off the road it had flown away but we waited a while and then the osprey came back. My camera’s poor zoom lens was maxed out and overworked again!
8.4.21 ~ Paffard Woods, Stonington, Connecticut
In the last picture it looks to me like it’s trying to decide if another stick with moss on it is needed to finish off the project. A much more pleasant ending to our outing.
