Last week's troubles seem minor compared to what we've been dealing with since Friday morning when an ice storm struck New England. I went to bed Thursday evening to the sound of frozen precipitation pelting the roof and windows. A phone call from our security company alerted us to a power outage down at the farm, sometime after 12:30 am.
I woke before daylight to what sounded like artillery fire but was the sound of large trees snapping and falling, one after another. The house was running on generator, so I was able to make a strong pot of coffee before looking outside. The view from my bedroom window was not promising. A large sugar maple near the driveway lay shattered in the garden, as if struck by lightning. That was just the beginning.
The storm's severity became apparent as we attempted to make our way down to the farm. We first filled as many jugs as we could find with water, knowing the well at the farm was out of service. Then came the trek down the driveway, which was blocked every 50 yards by fallen trees and limbs. Some were small enough for us to easily pull to the side; others were thick and heavy. Wherever the driveway was impassable, we resorted to off-road maneuvers.
When we finally made it to the town road, things were not much better. Limbs dangled precariously from power lines; tree trunks lay across the lane or leaned dangerously snagged by other trees. What a mess. Although the roads were icy, we made it safely to the farm where a hungry, thirsty flock awaited.
Fortunately, the animals were all fine, and the buildings at the farm and studio, though without electricity, suffered no damage. We could tell by looking at the yard that the sheep had not ventured out during the storm (no tracks, no droppings outside). Holly, who lives in the village, seemed stunned to see the condition of things on Patten Hill. Evidently the farm's elevation was a factor in the storm's intensity. The village and areas of lower elevation suffered relatively little damage.
I confess, my focus was a bit myopic at first. As I dealt with the immediate issues of clearing access to buildings and providing water to the animals while Mike cleared branches from our roads and Holly surveyed the fence line damage, I thought the storm was localized and the conditions on Patten Hill unique and extreme. In the course of the day, we came to realize the extent of the storm's damage to neighboring hill town communities and throughout the Northeast. From radio reports I learned the neighboring towns of Ashfield, Colrain, Heath and Conway had also been hit quite hard. Thousands of homes were without power. Early reports estimated it would be days before electricity could be restored to the hill towns.
Our good friend and neighbor, Norm Davenport arrived with a tractor equipped with a grappling hook. He and his sons removed the massive limbs that barred our driveway. While Mike saw to the clean up at the house, I made calls to the plumber to ensure that pipes in the barn, well house and studio would not burst.
Throughout the weekend, watering the flock meant trucking water, 40 gallons per trip, in plastic jugs from our home, which is generator powered, to the farm, which is not. The trip is 2 miles each way via town roads. While we do have interior farm access roads, they are now totally impassable and will remain that way for some time, from the looks of things.
There is nothing like the harsh reality of New England winter to challenge one's thinking about life in the country. More on that later, and more pictures of the aftermath to come .
The driveway, post clean up: