Skip to content

Things that go bump in the night

Castlegar News bi-weekly columnist describes a recent storm and its aftermath

The robin nesting near our front door sat on the downed power-line looking out on the devastated landscape of our front yard. Two gigantic spruce trees lay across our yard and on the roof of our house.

The bird must have thought the avian millennium had arrived, whereas I was wondering how much damage this cataclysmic event had generated. I felt hemmed in by the massiveness of the downed trees.

Most of us watch the weather channel from time to time and are amazed at the power of nature shown there. Tidal waves, avalanches, river floods—you name it—destroy property and kill people daily. Usually, though, we’re grateful because the force of nature and its destruction are happening elsewhere.

The robin knew what to do. Faced with all that lightning and thunder and the trees crashing near her nest, she kicked her young out of the nest during the night and moved them to the trees by the street. No matter what I thought as I looked at the mess, my wife says we’re not moving.

Late Friday night, I sat on the deck looking up at a clear sky.  About 11 o’clock, flashes of light appeared across the valley and continued without any sound. I looked westward and could see pale clouds moving in—and the beginnings of a light show.

I knew we were in for a storm, but I went to bed not worrying. Around 1 a.m., the eye of the storm seemed to be focused directly upon my house. Thunder shook the house, and the inside of the house lighted up steadily.  Then the rain hit—in torrents.

I got up and looked out, but the rain fell so hard I couldn’t see my neighbour’s place or the road. And the wind was roaring at hurricane force.

I went back to sleep, but 20 minutes later a resounding crash shook the house. Half asleep, I told my wife a large branch from one of the birch trees probably came down on the roof.  I found out differently when I looked out on the front yard Saturday morning.

In Castlegar, most people have a lot of trees in their yards, During Saturday’s storm, many of these trees were blown down. Unfortunately, some of the trees came down on homes as happened in our case.

We were lucky, though—if you can call downed trees “lucky.”  Both of the spruces were tall enough to have smashed well up on our roof. However, both came down on the power line that crosses our front yard, and though the line stretched, it did not break. The fall of one of the spruces was cushioned by a ten-foot memorial blue spruce located in our front yard.

Truly, there was a huge bang or a bump in the night.  But there’s hardly a shingle out of place. The power line and our smaller memorial tree saved us from a lot of damage. Some would call it intervention, but I call it pure luck.

Right now, we can hear chain saws roaring all along our street. Tree removal companies are working below us on 10th Avenue. Trucks loaded with tree boughs are driving by, heading for the recycling bins by the Complex.

Mid-Saturday, Fortis came by, cut the spruces in our yard so the power line sprang free, and then stretched it back into place. Our tree specialist from Thrums arrived yesterday and worked for six hours delimbing and sawing. So all we have left are the stump and ripped-up roots to deal with near the street.

Two of our neighbour’s houses are now visible across the street.  Our front yard, enclosed by spruce for more than 30 years, now has an opening. Changes, you say—but it could have been worse.