A thunderstorm with gusting winds just slammed our neighborhood, and the power is out. It’s 7:40 p.m. and completely dark outside and inside too, except for the kitchen where I am now. On the table and counters, I have many lovely candles burning, some with pleasant fragrances of sandalwood and rose. Also, I have a battery-run camping lantern hanging from the ceiling, and I have the glow of the laptop that I am using to write. It’s beautifully silent except for the bursts of wind and driving rain. None of the appliances are humming. I am alone in a calm house.
The electric company doesn’t expect to restore power for at least three hours, so I’m figuring out what to do in the semi-darkness. Reading and writing are the two pleasant activities that I can think of. There is no WiFi, so I can’t peruse the Internet. Fortunately, I have a good book on hand.
A friend just called to chat, and he gave me the option to go to his home, which is in another part of town where there is still power. Even though it’s lovely and peaceful here in the darkness, I’d prefer to go. So much for romanticizing the power outage! Electricity is still more desirable, and I’m heading out.