I’m sitting here on my couch, legs stretched out in front of me, enjoying the type of silence that comes along very rarely. There is an utter stillness in the air, and only the shrill chirping of crickets for background music.
We’ve had storms for most of the day in our neck of the woods, the kind of pop-up thunderstorms that can be so unpredictable, but still so beautiful, in the spring. Even though the storms have blown over, the power has just gone out, plunging the entire house into a comforting darkness. The only light is the light of the computer screen that I’m using to type this blog entry. Thank goodness for laptop batteries!
I have to confess that I do love a good thunderstorm and subsequent power outage, so long as that outage isn’t long enough to spoil the food in the fridge. There’s just something otherworldly about sitting in the dark, cut off from most of the trappings of current civilization that makes the day (or night) take on a whole new meaning.
When all of our little gadgets and gizmos are unavailable to us, what do we do? I’ll be the first to admit that I’m more than a little attached to the Internet. But, I also believe that it’s healthy to take a break from the fast pace of the electronic world we live in, to slow down and appreciate the simpler, more basic things life has to offer. And sometimes, like now, when I don’t have enough sense to unplug the TV myself, or the willpower to stay away from Facebook, I’m glad that Mother Nature has the chance to intervene and force my hand. A night without surfing various blogs or compulsively refreshing Huffington Post will be good for me.
So now, with no lights to turn on, no TV to stare at, no radio to listen to, I’m going to take advantage of this gift, this sudden stillness that begs me to put away the keyboard, and I’m going to crawl in bed with a sleepy toddler. He’ll snuggle up to me in that trusting, warm way that he does, and he’ll say “Hi, Mommy, time for ‘seep’.”
Yeah, buddy, it’s time for sleep.