Self-imposed power outtages

I've been in exile in my condo for a few days now. This is rare, especially in August, but I've enjoyed it. So much happens when I'm not around! The posh business people in the generic building a few blocks over had a rooftop celebration that I'm sure included gel and martinis (wish I had binoculars right then); the clouds move faster than I ever remember them moving and the new neighbour has a funny, potentially annoying problem with his smoke detector letting him know his apartment is hot, not burning, just hot, which is pretty much all the time in August. We suggested he remove the batteries for the evening (it was late when he made his confession) and get it checked out the next day. He seemed surprised by our suggestion and the fact that smoke detectors have batteries?!

After consideration, we decided that our made-up story of how the previous occupants moved out with complaints of chronic headaches, possibly due to toxic levels of carbon monoxide, was a devious and unneighbourly move.

Part of this condo exile has been on account of the weather. Things got a little stormy a few nights ago when we heard/saw a goliath strike of lightning that seemed like it hit about three blocks away. The ensuing fire truck and sirens were our proof. A friend from out of town was staying and our much-anticipated dinner was nearly on the table when the buzz stopped. The fish tank stopped dripping; the television quietly bowed down to the intensity of the storm; the clocks stopped insisting our dinner was late, as usual, and the ceiling fans conceded to the natural winds outside. Lights out and stove cooling our better-be-ready yams, we lit candles and observed silence between conversation, thunder and sirens. Luckily, my decanter is not electric.

It struck me that this whole experience made me feel as though I was in a sanctuary. It seems we're so used to noise, buzzing always, that we had forgotten how wonderful it was to be without it. Without so much distraction, the flicker of a candle on a wood table is pronounced. And is it just me, or does conversation seem secret and exceedingly precious around candlelight? Our roomie for the week just returned from South America and living in Costa Rica for nearly two years, so she wasn't fussed. Any amount of panic in a situation like this is pedestrian to her and I was happy to have someone to revel in the simplicity with.

When the power eventually made it's way back and we began re-setting clocks and scrolling through music and flicking channels and googling again, I felt a mild sense of disappointment, which is why I've decided to give myself a self-imposed power outage one evening a month. I understand the mesmerizing storm and the element of surprise will be missing and yes, it might be slightly annoying to set the clocks and hope the fish tank filter resumes without fail, but not enough.

I'll report back on my first reenactment.