November 11, 2012


Before the storm it was: getting ready for winter, cleaning off the porch, manning the tack sale, doing the books.  During the storm it was: scared of the roar, when will the power go, will the roof stay intact.  After the storm it was: silence.

It is beautiful to me that when the power is off there is total silence.  No fridge cutting out or hot water heater blurbling from the garage, or upstairs neighbor's washing machine or radon fans.  Just silence.  Though we only had 4 days of silence it was enough to make me understand why writers of Jane Austen's era could write so much easily.  Granted I didn't have my keyboard with which to peck away furiously but I did have the good old yellow lined paper. 

I wrote for days on end.  I sat in front of the living room window where I had moved my dining room table and I was disappointed when daylight turned to night.

But then, when the darkness fell, I put on my reflective bands and walked in the silence.  And finally, when it was still early and I wanted to stay awake, I gathered with friends by (battery powered) candle light and we laughed and huddled and were happy to be dry and alive.

Now is the aftermath.  I want to encourage you to contribute where you can.  Whatever charity takes your fancy.  Or, if you live nearby, volunteer.  After the silence there comes the time to work.