storms – In the Woods

after…

“Shelter along the Appalachian Trail” by Carol M. Highsmith

The forest behind my house is already becoming something new, I notice, as I walk trails that used to be shady. With so many fallen giants, the floor now lies under open sky. I count sprouting acorns by the dozens, arching their necks and reaching for a new bonanza of sunlight. I have so many hopes for this place I love. Mostly that we’ll rise like these seedlings from our scoured landscape, blessed with the kindness we’ve shared with our neighbors and the will to extend our care to those who follow behind us on these paths.
~ Barbara Kingsolver
(Southern Living, May 2025, “The Heart of Appalachia”)

On September 27 last year Hurricane Helene tore through Appalachia, affecting the community in Virginia where author Barbara Kingsolver lives. It also devastated 29 of North Carolina’s 100 counties, which are part of the same geographic region. (The county where we live is in the Piedmont region.) For some reason I never mentioned this disaster on this blog last year, probably because I couldn’t process what I was learning about it in real time.

Our grandchildren had no school that day so we had planned to take them to the Carolina Tiger Rescue. The day before, the weather forecasters warned of torrential rain for our area but the tour is by reservation only and the website said it would happen rain or shine. So we were prepared and bought rain ponchos for the four of us. But that morning the Rescue cancelled the tour and we stayed home. I’m glad we didn’t risk getting caught in a flash flood on the roads. It rained a lot and we had two tornado warnings during the day, which sent us to hunker down in the bathroom, but thankfully we weren’t hit. The disruption to our lives was nothing compared to what was happening to our neighbors only a few hours away.

A year earlier in October, we had stayed for a weekend getaway in the beautiful town of Black Mountain. We had a wonderful time walking through the town, visiting Mount Mitchell, hiking the Balsam Nature Trail in the state park, and driving along the scenic Blue Ridge Parkway. Little did we know Black Mountain would experience catastrophic flooding from the storm. Roads and bridges were damaged or washed away. The pictures we saw on the news were shocking and sobering. But since then the stories being shared of kind people helping one another have been heartwarming. I hope we can plan another visit some day.

However, the severely limited federal response under the current administration has been disturbing. According to our governor:

In addition to the $13.5 billion that I am requesting of Congress in new appropriations, North Carolina has yet to receive billions of dollars that Congress worked together on a bipartisan basis to appropriate last December. Just as I asked in February, I am urging federal agencies to take action to unlock those funds so we can put them to work as soon as possible where they are desperately needed.

We are grateful for every dollar that brings us a step closer to recovery, yet current federal financial support is not enough. In total, federal support amounts to approximately 9% of the total damage western North Carolina suffered. Many of the largest, most devastating storms, like Katrina, Maria, and Sandy, saw upwards of 70% of damage covered by federal funding, and from available historical data, the federal government has typically covered between 40 and 50 percent of costs caused by major hurricanes. The people of North Carolina deserve a fair shake, just like the residents of other states and territories.

~ Gov. Josh Stein
(Hurricane Helene Recovery, September 15, 2025, Federal Funding Request)

10 inches of rain!

Monday morning Tim was impressed to find 10 inches of rain in his gauge, from Tropical Storm Chantal. It was only a tropical depression when it got here Sunday afternoon, and there were no areal or flash flood warnings until after the storm was underway. Only then did the warnings start coming in. I lost count of how many times the warning alarms on my cell phone went off. Because we’re at a higher elevation and not in a flood zone we had no idea about what was unfolding in other parts of Carrboro and Orange County. But we knew it was raining hard here for a very long time.

Around noon we decided to drive up to Hillsborough to see what the Eno River looked like. The Riverwalk was closed because the river had flooded at least 19 feet above flood level and had damaged the wooden walkway. In these pictures it had receded some, but parts of the walkway were still under water. We met a public works employee who said they couldn’t open until the water receded, the damage was assessed, and repairs were made. She expects it to be closed for several weeks.

looks like a toy truck deposited upside down on the railing

Then we drove down to Chapel Hill to check out Bolin Creek. Not sure how high the creek had gotten but after we left and drove alongside it I saw a picnic table slammed into the bank of the creek. And a plastic chair caught on a tree a little farther along.

debris caught in the footbridge railings

the water had definitely covered the footbridge

Several people we talked to were comparing this storm damage to what Hurricane Fran left behind in September 1996, but we weren’t here for that, so I couldn’t say. We didn’t go into the part of Chapel Hill that flooded and apparently made the national news, but I do wonder about our grocery store down there. We’ll see on Thursday, senior discount day, and therefore our food shopping day. 😉

I was impressed by the amount of debris caught on the footbridge

Today we’re under a heat advisory with heat index values ranging from 105°F to 109°F expected. We never lost power during the storm and I am so grateful to have air conditioning! We’re fine. But my heart goes out to those outside trying to clean up and repair damage after this storm.

50 years!

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come.
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
~ William Shakespeare
(Sonnet 116)

For many of the early years of our marriage we had this sonnet taped to our bedroom door, and over the years I’ve never found a better estimation of true love. It was printed with an old-fashioned font on paper that looked like parchment. At some point when we moved from one home to another it got lost, but I’ve never forgotten Shakespeare’s insights.

When we were young and wide-eyed, we used to wonder what it would be like to grow old together. Decades later, after heart disease and cancer entered our lives, we started wondering if we would grow old together. But somehow we made it, and now we know. ♡

(image credit: sipa at pixabay)

sore must be the storm

The Homestead
image credit: Emily Dickinson Museum

On April 9, the Emily Dickinson Museum received notice that a grant from the Institute of Museum and Library Services, a federal agency, had been terminated the preceding day. In 2023, the Museum was awarded a grant of $117,000 by IMLS to digitize records related to its newly catalogued collection and to locate related information in other repositories with Dickinson family materials. The notice states, “IMLS has determined that your grant is unfortunately no longer consistent with the agency’s priorities and no longer serves the interest of the United States and the IMLS Program.”
Our work to amplify Emily Dickinson’s revolutionary poetic voice – by opening her family homes to visitors, by interpretive and educational use of her family’s material legacy, by holding up her enduring poetry – continues with support from the Museum’s friends and our unending gratitude.
~ The Emily Dickinson Museum
(Facebook, April 16, 2025)

I was sad, but not surprised, to read this Facebook post from the Emily Dickinson Museum in Amherst, Massachusetts. We visited this wonderful place many years ago, probably a few years before I started writing this blog, but never got around to visiting again. My memories of that day are a bit fuzzy now, but I was in awe of seeing her little desk in her bedroom in the Homestead, and could feel her presence, sitting there, looking out her window, and writing her poems. The docent told us she loved to bake and would often lower a basket of goodies down outside her window to delight the neighborhood children. The tour also took us along a path to see her brother’s house next door, The Evergreens. There Tim got so distracted examining the unusual hinges and latches on the doors that he was scolded by a docent for lagging behind the group. The museum has been working hard since we were there to keep restoring the houses to look even more like how it was when Emily lived there with her family. Wishing them the best as they continue with help from their many friends!

And sore must be the storm —
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #314)

our first southern winter storm

1.11.25 ~ red mulberry branches and twigs coated in ice

We experienced our first winter storm down south here last Friday night, getting just an inch of snow, followed by sleet. When I woke up Saturday morning I didn’t see any birds, but there were little icicles dangling from the red mulberry tree branches and the rhododendron leaves. My little indoor owl ornament looked pretty in the bay window and the whimsical mushrooms in the garden looked different surrounded by white stuff with their own tiny icicles.

On Sunday we were supposed to attend a reception at the botanical garden for the Birds of North Carolina: A Community Photo Exhibit, but it was postponed until January 26th due to the inclement weather. I’ve been pretty excited because they accepted all four of my submissions, which I’ve added below. They’ve been posted here on the blog before, but they look even better hanging up in the gallery, enlarged to 8″x10″ size from the original number of pixels.

American Robin
3.17.24 ~ Coker Arboretum

Carolina Wren
3.20.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

Yellow-rumped Warbler
3.29.24 ~ Bolin Forest

Hermit Thrush
3.30.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

I couldn’t help noticing that all the pictures I selected to submit were taken in March. Looking forward to another spring month for bird photography!

close to overflowing

Tim recorded 5½ inches in his rain gauge from Tropical Storm Debby. We never lost power and I think the storm had technically weakened to a tropical depression by the time it reached here. (We never got a tropical storm warning here either.) All the same, it was good to be safe inside and hunkered down for a day.

We heard reports of tornados and flooding elsewhere in nearby counties so we were lucky. Today we drove down to Bolin Creek Trail to get a good look at the creek and it was close to overflowing. The pictures taken there last September show what the creek looked like when the water was low and the stones were visible in the streambed. See here.

Today the sky is blue with white puffy clouds and the sun is bright and warm. We already have a feels like temperature of 90°F and tomorrow promises to be even warmer.

thunderstorm

A — Cap of Lead across the sky
Was tight and surly drawn
We could not find the mighty Face
The Figure was Withdrawn —

A Chill came up as from a shaft
Our noon became a well
A Thunder storm combines the charms
Of Winter and of Hell

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1735)

they got snow!

2.13.23 ~ after the nor’easter in Connecticut

My sister estimates they got 9 inches of snow from Tuesday’s nor’easter, which left a winter wonderland behind it. I loved the pictures she sent me from the woods surrounding our childhood home.

the birds have found food here since the 1960s

the shed my father built more than 60 years ago

the wheelchair ramp my son and brother-in-law built for my father in the 2000s
(the house my parents built is barely visible behind it)

photos by Beverly

our first southern nor’easter

12.17.23 ~ drenched northern cardinal outside my window

We experienced our first nor’easter down south here on Sunday, getting over two inches of rain and plenty of wind. This cardinal sat on the branch outside our dining room window, looking in, for several hours. I finally got up and grabbed the camera. He was thoroughly soaked and I saw no sign of his partner. The juncos weren’t around either.

His behavior made me think of the mourning dove who hunkered down in the arborvitae behind our condo back in Connecticut during the remnants of Hurricane Ida. (Story here.) Except this cardinal was very exposed on a bare branch.

The winter solstice arrives tonight and the days will be getting longer. Warmest holiday wishes to everyone, whichever festival of light you are celebrating!