Yesterday was quite a day. I was up at four and at five watched the power go out on the hill across the way. I sat there enjoying the dark, and then, at six, our power went out. Candles lit and a fire made, all seemed okay.
I watched the wind, rain, and fire, while trying to read Karen Armstrong's A Short History of Myth. It was perfect as myth is rarely quiet and is not serene.
I spent a couple of hours with a shovel trying to divert the river pouring down our driveway back to the road. I was successful.
Steve came home from work. There was no power in downtown Mill Valley, and Miller Avenue was flooded, so he tried a few ways and finally got home by going up and over the mountain. Around 1:00, we headed down to Starbucks, land of laptops and our neighbors. There was no place to sit, let alone plug in, so we returned for more water control and reading, which meant mainly looking at all the action outside. We came through this storm pretty well, but our neighbors have fences down, and branches and trees have creaked and crashed.
We shared the evening with our neighbors, who have a gas stove, and we consumed a fair amount of wine, both mulled and cold. The mulled wine went pretty fast, so there we were opening bottles. Oddly, I don't think anyone felt anything. There is something about huddling together in candlelight by a fire.
What I see is that there is an energy to a day like yesterday that is fascinating. It is something to live thinking that at any moment a tree might fall on your house, and, of course, at any moment, it might, but we rarely feel it that way. Though at times I thought I was not focused, because I was so excited that I would switch from looking at the fire, the candle flame, the rain, I was actually extremely present for every minute. There was so much stimulation, so much to experience and enjoy. I felt exhilarated, alive.
We snuggled into bed last night under about ten blankets, and rose and enjoyed hot showers. We have a gas water heater, so that is a joy, and it is fun to navigate by candlelight. I love it.
When we drove into downtown Mill Valley for breakfast, there were lights on all over the place. How garish it seems, and wasteful. Our phones don't work without power and our cell phones don't work at the house, so there is a wonderful sense of isolation there. It felt odd to return to the world of lights.
We are last priority for fixing with PG&E and with a new storm coming, they probably won't bother, so I am not expecting power until Monday or Tuesday. That would be typical of the area. Maybe though I'll be surprised. The longest it has been out is five days. Meanwhile, in the moment, Steve's office has power and our tummies are full with breakfast at Toast.
Enjoy! It is quite an amazing world!!