i have always loved storms. i love to hear the thunder, and feel the wind swirling around me. i love the excitement and energy in the air when nature turns vicious. my mom likes to tell the story of when hurricane gloria came through connecticut, just as the winds were picking up, she looked out the dining room window to see me, all of five years old, standing at the end of our driveway looking up at the ominous clouds, mesmerized. the rational and caring person inside of me is glad that hurricane irene was little more than an intense rain storm in new hampshire. the storm-loving five year old at the end of her driveway wishes it would have been more.
nonetheless, here are the last photos of the day…
(below) our little road littered with twigs
eventually, the number of vessels collecting drips from our ceiling amounted to ten. which, i think, is a record for us. what are those white pieces of debris you say?
why, that is none other than chunks of our ceiling taking flight! it’s a good thing we closed the rug to all traffic. someone could have been badly injured.
(below) i mean, in all honesty, this table was on it’s last legs. i’d say this was more of a win than a casualty of irene.
(below) max made nice use of the stormy light to snap a picture of me and zelda. notice our new accessories. my super trendy hair feather, and zelda’s new starry name tag. we are pretty hip.
(below) and finally, one pretty picture of a leaf that was flung onto our porch window upstairs. it’s been nice knowing you irene…