Wind Songs.

It was a little windy on Saturday morning, the kind of day when the bulk of the leaves are ripped from the trees and tossed to the ground below. As the day went on, a bit of mist joined the wind, which increased in its speed and ferocity. By the time I drove my mom to 5:00 mass, leaves were dancing in little spirals, and on one road a tree lay across two lanes of oncoming traffic: a tree, not a branch.

After mass, the rain and wind intensified. With foggy windows, I navigated harsh weather and idiot drivers opening their doors into traffic, managing to make it from my parking spot back to the front of the church where my mom waited in the lobby. For the most part, Saturday was a relaxing day in which I watched a few DVDs and ate way too many chocolate chip cookies. Around 8 PM, there was a loud buzzing sound somewhere in the distance. My computer and lights flickered, came back to full life for a second, and then I was in total darkness. My family was scattered. My dad was down the hall in the living room in front of a dark television, while my mom and Cubby were in my parents room, also in front of a dark television. Somewhere in my room Chirp lay curled in a ball, purring in oblivious contentment, while I carefully walked away from my computer, trying not to trip over empty bottles and laundry.

The hall was as dark as my room, as cries of “what happened?” echoed toward me from two different old people. I knew my mom had left an ironing board out with an iron on it, and I hugged the opposite side of the wall, even as I heard my dad shuffling from the living room to the kitchen to find a flashlight.

And then the power came back on.

So, I proceeded to reboot my computer, and started writing this. And, quite literally, the second I wrote “And then the power came back on”, as is my luck, we experienced a major blackout. My dad, after getting the flashlight earlier, fumbled about in the dark of the living room. I called out to remind him about the light, but he replied that he’d left it on the kitchen table. At his behest, I made it to a window to see if the neighbors lost power as well, in case it was just us, but as I suspected, it was pitch black outside. I saw headlights from a car slowly driving around the block, illuminating leaves and drops of water, and then it was gone.

It was only 9 PM but, like a bird with a towel over its cage, I felt a sudden urge to sleep. My parents had located flashlights as well as a battery powered radio, but I was already drifting off. Now it’s 4 AM. I don’t know when the power came back on. Outside, it’s eerily quiet. Inside, I can’t get back to sleep. Maybe some windy tunes will help...