Mine was among the communities that lost power in Hurricane Sandy; my house was out for 2 ½ days. Blackouts are humbling affairs.
I worked from home that day and wondered anew whether the ancient trees surrounding my house would survive this storm. In a previous storm, a huge limb snapped and crashed to the driveway. At its widest point it was 9 inches across and the branch was about 50 feet long. Its falling made me feel vulnerable. What other trees or branches could succumb if swept by a strong gust from the wrong angle? That prompted me a few months later to cut down several trees close to the house. My perspective about them had changed; whereas I previously saw them as arching gracefully toward the house, I now viewed them as leaning menacingly, easily pushed by the wrong gust to crash through the roof. Removing a few trees would provide some peace of mind for the next storm.
The morning of Sandy had strong winds and rain, but it just seemed at first like an above-average storm. But by noon the wind was loud and the trees were rocking wildly. I started to avoid the parts of the house near the next-closest trees that we had chosen not to cut to keep costs down. (I was second-guessing that decision.) But by late afternoon the storm had calmed and I started to believe that we might survive the storm without losing trees or electricity. But that turned out to be wishful thinking. At around 6 pm the power went out for about 30 seconds, then a few minutes later for a minute more. Finally the lights went out for good.
I’m not much into preparing for emergencies, but previous storms had caused me to do some minor risk planning for events like this. Thus, with the small flashlight I had stuck in my pocket, I was able to easily find and light the candles positioned throughout the house to provide enough light to navigate. We waited a few minutes to see if this may be a brief black-out, as has happened before, but this one appeared determined to settle in for a while.
On reflection, I’m amused to realize that I did not even attempt to make the most of spending time in the unpowered house in some creative way. It seems that virtually everything I do at night requires electricity. I usually watch TV, use the PC or read. A few years ago we switched to an internet phone that needs power. Even my Kindle e-reader needs background light. The iPhone worked, but I wanted to preserve its battery in case I really needed it later.
No, we didn’t opt to just “be present”, maybe engaging in conversation by candlelight, or sitting quietly in contemplation. We bugged out and found the nearest restaurant that had power, hot food and drinks – emphasis on the last – and stayed until we were tired enough that when we went home, we could fall asleep immediately. The next day, I worked later than usual so that when I went home I could head right out to a restaurant again for dinner, then return late enough to fall asleep again. Thankfully, power returned by nightfall on the third night, so a third night of escaping wasn’t necessary.
I wanted nothing to do with that dark husk of a house when the power was out. It wasn’t until writing this post that I really thought about that. Yes, blackouts are humbling.