When Trees Lose Power, So Do We
With our climate changing before our eyes, we collectively need to adapt — or suffer the consequences.
From inside, it seemed the ice-coated trees glimmered and shined in silence. Only upon going outside was the assumed muted stillness and quietude of a cold winter morning betrayed.
The snaps and cracks from strained branches were a cacophony of cries, each minute another endurance test that so, so many limbs and indeed whole trees failed. Weeks later, sullen, empty, carved branches line streets, waiting for final disposal. More than 34,000 tons of tree debris have been removed. And that’s literally half of it.
On a second walk later that afternoon, the neighborhood was louder. More branches were audibly struggling, even more had fallen, some smashing cars and fences, others lying on top of roofs. Yards were littered with whole sections of tree. I tried moving a small branch from the middle of the road and was surprised at how heavy it was. No wonder so many branches were snapping.
Before returning inside I turned on my car, wanting the battery to get some run. Half of the radio stations were out. Checking my phone delivered the news that a friend had lost power, and that more and more outages were happening across the city.
