So Hurricane Sandy has come and gone. She brought many hours of wind so loud that it sounded like an ocean inside my house—ironic given how many people ended up with actual ocean in their homes from this storm. Just before four on Monday the power went out as I had anticipated it would.

Except for the awful wind noise outside, I was pretty cozy with the Jotul fired up for the first time this season. The wind blew rain down the chimney, rain penetrated the seal between chimney and roof and ran down the front of my fireplace, inside. All night long I listened to rainwater sizzle as it hit the hot stove pipe. Thankfully the blizzard warning my area was under never amounted to any snow, but from my house I can see snow in the Blue Ridge mountains to the west.

In the morning I went out to survey the damage. The well house lost quite a few more shingles from its roof, a trend begun with the derecho in June. Tree branches fell, screens flew out of windows, the garden was smashed.

I’d come home from my trip to the prettiest stand of snow peas I’d ever grown, just starting to form pods and full of flowers, underplanted with thriving arugula:

After Sandy:

And my dahlias are toast. Before the storm, that orange one below stood taller than my 5′8″ height.

After Sandy:

Compared to many other folks, I got off easy with this one and have no right to complain. Twenty-four hours without power was no big deal, and nothing but the garden suffered irreparable damage. It’s the end of the season, so it’s only a matter of days until frost blackens most of those plants anyway. But it is my favorite season in the garden, when moisture tends to be plentiful, heat and bugs relent, and most crops and flowers are on autopilot and keep surprising with unexpected last-minute gifts made all the more precious because I know that each harvest could be the last of the year.

Anyway, Sandy has cleared out and now it’s time to go pick up tree branches, fix the blackberry cages that were leveled, collect the well house shingles that are scattered about the yard, and see what I can salvage from the garden.

I hope that wherever you are you weathered well.

I interrupt my New England travelogue to let those of you who have inquired know that I am home, having driven from Connecticut yesterday. I would have enjoyed a few more days in Maine, but I didn’t think that the coast would be terribly pleasant if Hurricane Sandy turns out to be what’s forecast. I wanted to get off the road before the storm hit, and I needed to be home to batten down the hatches.

It’s been a busy day of preparing for high winds, which cause damage themselves but will most likely knock the power out. I have swapped out the screens in the chicken coop for glass panes, and I brought all my porch furniture and containers of plants inside. Any loose stuff around the yard is now under roof—and I have to say I like this tidy look! I harvested about a million dahlias and zinnias from the garden, knowing they would be beaten to shreds in the wind and their heavy flower heads would most likely damage the plants as they swung. I picked peas, beans, peppers, chard, mustard, herbs, and five pounds of persimmons. I am not sure the persimmons are quite ready, but they were so heavy on the branches of a young tree that I considered them a liability. Better to have sour persimmons this year than no persimmon tree next.

Inside I did all my trip laundry in anticipation of an almost-guaranteed power outage, charged lanterns, located flashlights and filled a bathtub with water to use for toilet flushing. I also drew buckets of water for the chickens and stored them in the garage. All preparations fresh in my mind from a week without power after the June 29 derecho. At least this time around its not 110 degrees outside!

And then I went into town to gas up the car and get a few groceries before returning home to mow the grass. It hadn’t been mowed since before my trip, and I know it’s much easier to pick up leaves and the inevitable downed tree branches from short grass.

Now it’s just after five and the wind has definitely picked up. If I can just get some of my postroadtrip mess put away inside, the better to avoid tripping while navigating by flashlight, I will consider myself in good shape for the coming storm.

And don’t worry—there is still much to come on the story of my trip, including my favorite part—just as soon as Sandy passes! Thanks to all who checked in on me, and if you are in this storm’s path, let’s hope for the best.