In the Piedmont region of Virginia, we've been in moderate drought without our usual fall rains. So when New Year's Day was rainy, with some rains lingering on Sunday that was a fine start. But Sunday night, temperatures plunged which meant a thin sheet of ice formed everywhere. And on Monday, it began to snow. And snow. And snow. A heavy, wet snow. Trees began to lean over and since the snow was accompanied by gusty winds, many began to snap. The power failed Monday morning. On Wednesday, as I write, it is still out. And it's very cold.
In areas that are not served by urban utilities, water comes from wells. When the power fails, there's no water to bathe, to drink, or... In cold weather, pipes freeze and parts crack. In summer hurricane season, no power means no AC. In winter, it means no heat. I'm fortunate because I installed a propane tank to fuel a standby generator for the rare occasions when the power fails. I'm more than fortunate because I have light, water, staples in the pantry, and can keep the house at 65. But three mailboxes down the road is a rental trailer occupied by a woman and three small children. They are not so fortunate; I hope they left to stay with someone before the snow got too deep because our road wasn't salted, or sanded because it was raining. And now it isn't plowed.
Last night, a SUV crept down the hill, backed up into my driveway, and slipped off into the drainage ditch. I happened to see this because I was preparing my supper from what I found in the refrigerator, and occasionally looking out the kitchen window. Though the driver tried to pull out of the ditch, the snow and ice beneath didn't cooperate. To my amazement, the driver went to his trunk, pulled out a chainsaw and began to cut branches from one of the many pines that had fallen across my driveway. "Ah," I thought, "he's going to use branches under his rear wheels to provide traction." But no. In the growing darkness, the man continued to cut the pine and pile pieces along the drive's edge.
Earlier in the morning, I had checked the county website to see if a scheduled meeting had been cancelled. On the website I had found a snow emergency number to call if people needed help. I wrote it down and texted it to those I knew who might be snowed in as I am, or worse, running out of food or gas for a portable generator or insulin or .... That was the number I called last night. It was a number staffed by volunteers at the fire station. Within 15 minutes, volunteers appeared with two trucks, pulled the SUV out of the ditch, talked to the driver; who then, successfully, backed up into my driveway instead of continuing back the way he'd come.
He continued to come up my drive, cutting his way through fallen trees. I turned on outside lights and went onto the porch as he came nearer. The mysterious man, in the dark, sawing his way to my house lives about a half mile up the road. When his boys were young, I used to see him frequently when he came to my former house for eggs or whatever excess I had to share from the garden. Long ago, I gave them goat kids so his wife could start a goat dairy herd but I'd seen him only once in the last 4 years.
He came to see that I was okay. Our brief conversation in the cold, on the icy and snowy porch, was the best possible gift an 81 year old woman, living solo in the country could ever receive, this new year or any!