Vermont may have endured a storm of the century, but overall Hurricane Irene inflicted less damage than feared. It did not break records.
The deaths attributed to Irene shatter many hearts. Surviving family members and friends will press on as best they can. They will gather comfort from the sacred or secular rituals they prefer. Mourning itself reflects love, for if a life were not well lived there would be few reasons to mourn its passing. Tears of sorrow flow from the same source as tears of joy.
Was Irene's threat exaggerated? Stories have explained that improved technology has made predictions of a hurricane's path more accurate. The ability to forecast a hurricane's might remains more difficult than laypeople likely assume. The experts ask for criticism, nevertheless; they seldom advise mere mortals how contingent the information is. The National Hurricane Center does a fairly decent job; the various commercial networks do not. The Washington Post's excellent Alexandra Petri confesses that thanks to The Weather Channel she no longer shops but stockpiles. The channel itself resembles a street-corner preacher thundering about Armageddon and the Rapture.
Weather events also are exploited to make ideological points. Just about every occurrence is cited as evidence of global warming and humanity's baleful contributions to the trend. The Times-Dispatch accepts climate change but is reluctant to attribute specific storms to the process.
Climate change may not be the only reason for rising financial costs and increasing physical destruction. Communities that are not only populous but prosperous will raise the measurable consequences of natural fury. More people inhabit hurricane zones; property values have skyrocketed. A Category 2 hurricane slamming into Hampton Roads or coastal Carolina in 2011 will cause more damage in dollars than a Category 2 hurricane that might have pummeled the regions in 1911, or in 1811, or in 1711. The earlier years could have taken hits devastating for their times. The moment a storm forms, it probably gains the potential to set new standards of destruction.
Tuesday's editions carried a story about a family in Chester that is starting to lose its love affair with trees. Cathie and Mike Richardson bought their house in part because the property boasted so many trees. During Irene, an oak tree slammed into their roof and almost fell into their laps. The Richardsons are not alone. Many share their sentiments, both pre- and post-storm. Central Virginia's trees contribute to the area's abundant beauties. They enhance city streets and suburban developments. Countryside forests delight the eye and please the Thoreau in every soul. During storms, trees also collapse into streets and onto buildings. They crush cars. Branches become projectiles. Power outages follow. For many days, perhaps for many weeks, the sound of buzz saws will be constant. Breezes rippling through leaves may sing lovely tunes. A chainsaw is not a cello.
Advertisement