Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Nature's Lullaby

1/29/08 - 11:00 p.m.
The hill behind my home is called a mountain by the locals, Red Mountain. Perhaps they call it so because its bones are stone and minerals instead of just plain dirt. It is tall but not very – just tall enough to catch the winds that came with this night’s storm. Through my open windows I hear wind roaring across its crest. It sounds like a distant rough surf or a never-ending train. I can see the lights of the TV stations along the crest, and I’m sure they are broadcasting even now how there are blackouts across the city. I’ll hear the replay sometime tomorrow morning; right now my power is out. I heard the transformer blow on that mountain, and I wonder that it is my lights that are out and not theirs.

I sit here at my laptop with a fully charged battery, a glass of wine at hand, enjoying the ambient glow of candles in my hearth and oil lamps bright enough to read by here and down the hall. It’s rather pleasant actually, and once I’ve finished this blog, I’ll take my lamp and glass of wine out onto the balcony before the temperature takes its predicted plunge. Just because I can work, doesn’t mean I must. I want to soak in the rare moment of the darkened neighborhood with only the sounds of the wind on the mountain and the occasional passing car.

1/30/08 - 7 a.m.
It got colder around midnight, so I battened down the hatches. Lamp in hand I remembered to turn off light switches, as I made my way to bed. Once there, warmly ensconced betwixt and between down pillows, feather bed and comforter, I opened Evanovich’s ‘Plum Lucky’ and chuckled my way through two chapters. With laughter as my nightcap, I was ready for sleep; blew out the flame of my lamp, snuggled deeper into my feather nest; and fell asleep to the sound of wind on the little mountain behind my home.

© Perle Champion

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