It could have been so much worse if the cold front had not come. But come it did after the hurricane had passed, which made the cutting and the raking and the pitching and the piling far less miserable than it would have otherwise been. With each cool breeze, we counted our lucky stars.
At the end of the day, we sat and caught our breath amid the debris next to the fatally wounded Pine and the fallen shade Oak.
The roaring generator on the patio didn't seem to bother the Hummingbirds. They swooped down from the remaining canopy in the golden light, coming and going, fighting over positions at the feeders. Not just one or two, but a dozen or more swarming more like bees than birds in apparent desperation to get to the sugar water.
After a storm like that, there aren't many Trumpet Vine blossoms left.
after hurricane Ike
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