When I went outside to assess the damage after the storm passed, the first thing I thought of was the musician Prince. There were probably no doves, but as I stood on the back porch, I could hear hundreds (thousands?) of birds plaintively crying out, over and over and over. This wasn’t good.

The forecast had called for thunderstorms, and as the afternoon progressed, I started receiving weather alerts on my phone for severe thunderstorms. Then at 4:20PM, my phone started chirping like crazy – it was an alert from the National Weather Service. 80 MPH winds were expected, take shelter immediately.

A few minutes later, I looked outside. The sky was turning black. Suddenly, daylight was gone and it was a dark twilight. As I continued to look, the rain started and then suddenly, the wind forcefully arrived. Trees were bent over, seemingly almost in half.

Holy hell! I called for our dog, Carmen, (Cathy was out of town), and we went to the lowest part of the house near the wine room. Carmen and I sat on the steps next to each other. I was petting her back as we listened to the wind blow and the rain pour down. She shivered slightly. The lights flickered, and then the power went out. I counted to 8, and right on time, the generator kicked in and the lights came back on.

How long did we sit there? I’m not really sure. Maybe 5 minutes, maybe 10 minutes. It felt like a lifetime.

Eventually, the wind lessened, although the rain continued to fall in buckets. I moved back up to the kitchen and looked out the windows. The rain was still falling so hard, you couldn’t see more than a few feet. I posted to FB to warn people in Warrenton that craziness was on it’s way. The winds were moving so fast, I think my post hit FB about the same time the storm was raging through Warrenton.

The rain finally lightened to a drizzle and I put on a jacket. Time to check on the horses, and the farm for damage. As I stepped out the door, I heard the birds crying and immediately thought of Prince. It seemed a strange thing at the time, but he literally popped in my brain. These weren’t caws, tweets, chirps, whistles, trills or croaks, they were cries. I don’t know what crying doves sound like, but I hope I never hear the sound of that many birds crying out again.

I circled the house and it was fine, although a garden trellis was knocked over and a grill cover had vanished. Not so bad, I thought, and then on the way to the barn, I saw the old pine trees on the edge of our property. Four out of five were sheared off. I felt an immediate sadness, as they were beautiful trees.

At the barn, the horses were fine, as was Ollie, our cat. By chance, I’d put him in the feed room an hour before the storm arrive to have an early dinner.

I continued my tour and found a tree down by the pond, and two trees down on the fence in the back paddock. I came out on Swains Road, which borders our property and stopped suddenly. At least four trees had fallen, blocking the road. There, I ran into my neighbor Kevin. He had just returned from doing his own tour, and was getting ready to start cutting up a tree blocking his drive and the road. I told him I’d be back in a bit with the tractor.

As I finished my inspection, I found a couple more downed trees, including one near our driveway and one blocking a dirt road on our property. It was time to get to work.

After dropping the bush hog from the tractor, I made my way back to Swains road. Eventually, using chain saws, my tractor, and a Jeep, there were three or four of us clearing a path on the gravel road. We weren’t Republicans, Democrats or Independents, we were just neighbors doing a job that needed to be done. It’s funny how that works sometimes. I wish it worked that way more often.

Around 7:30PM, after checking on a next door neighbor that lives alone, I made my way back home. I put the tractor away, went inside, and made myself a drink and fixed dinner.

I learned that over half of Fauquier County lost power and numerous roads were closed due to fallen trees. A few homes and cars had trees fall on them. Miraculously, no one was killed or injured. The Washington Post shared a bit more information about the storm: “The violent winds were the result of straight-line flow called a downburst, which occurs when an exceptionally strong downdraft strikes the surface and the airflow surges outward along the ground, literally as a blast of wind. The strongest winds occur in the direction that the storm is moving.” According to the Post, a peak wind speed of 92MPH was recorded about a mile to the east of where we live.

Here at the farm, we lost about ten big trees, including the pines by the house, two that fell on fences and others scattered around the property. One of Cathy’s Redbuds has two branches sheared off, and our beautiful magnolia in the front yard has half of its branches broken by a huge falling oak. Overall, we are pretty lucky. Cathy, Carmen, Ollie the Cat, the horses Stella and Katie. and I are all fine. There’s no damage to the house, and no damage to the barn.

The power came back on and the generator finally shut off 30 hours after the storm. I can hear chainsaws in the distance as the clean up continues. It will take some time.

The chainsaw sounds will eventually fade and disappear, but the sound I don’t think I will forget for a long time is all of those birds crying out in unison. In shock, in pain, calling for others, I don’t know. All I know is it was a plaintive and anguished sound.