We had newlyweds Joni and Arnie over for dinner last night. About a half hour before we sat down to dinner, the electricity went out. Now that sounds like a real Farm experience.
The Pies sat in the oven awaiting the next burst of heat, which was dependent on an electric spark. The Venison Stew on the top of the stove bubbled gently on simmer above the happy blue gas flame.
We put out the picture of the wood stove, which hopefully will be installed this summer. Melanie scouted around for candles. As Dusk moved into Dark, we had a wonderful meal and treasured time by Candlelight.
The countryside was dark. The rest of the world had seemed to drop away.
Mechanical noises in the house disappeared. We didn't hear the fridge, furnace, dryer, fans on computer. The agitating lights of the computer, clocks, all things digital were no more. All these things seem to add convenience to our world, yet a gray energy of continual agitation. All that was gone.
The surrounding silence tenderly held our quiet conversation and our time together. We wondered about our friends Ethan, Sarah and Etta who live non-electrically 3 miles to the south. They would not have even known the area was without power as they went about the routine of their lives.
Toward the end of our time together, the power came back on. So we resumed the cooking of the pies. But we didn't give up the simplicity of those candles.
I had heard that the Post Office was considering reduction of service one day a week because resources were limited. For that one magical moment, our carbon footprint on the planet was reduced. Resources are limited on this Great Earth. I would be willing to power down more. I just need some more time to think about these things.