I never before noticed the hissing sound the gas on the stove makes until the power went out last night and I had to cook dinner in the quiet absence of all electricity. Candles flickered in the darkness as we spent the evening playing a dice game at the dining room table, talking, laughing, losing, winning, spending time with each other instead of in the company of the television or computer. Flashlights guided us through the suddenly unfamiliar maze of the house. We camped out in the living room, a mattress on the floor, layers of blankets heaped on top. The curious cats massaged us with their feet, walking and sniffing and marveling at the movement and transformation of the everyday to the extraordinary. “A mattress on the floor?” they seemed to ask, and then, “A mattress on the floor!” as they bounded around and finally settled in. Heat from the fireplace kept our toes toasty while the encroaching cold nipped and numbed our noses. Sleep was easy to come by and deep in dreams.
Day 4’s small stone, written in the wee hours of the morning when the power was restored. It’s shocking, especially in the middle of the night, when everything comes back on, beeping and clicking and rumbling.
Last night happened to be one of the coldest of the season so far, and I was amazed at how quickly the house cooled down once the electricity was gone.
Bountiful Healing 