Dex
08-10-2005, 03:57 AM
So I'm sitting here playing poker while mindlessly browsing the web, and the power goes out (sometime around midnight). The UPS doesn't work for some reason, so the computer goes off too. I notice how dark it seems outside, so I look out the window and discover that the power is out for the entire block. Didn't this just happen a few weeks ago? I wish the power wouldn't go out so often.
I step outside and decide, screw it, I'm going for a walk.
I occasionally walk the "loop" around the neighborhood and back. I should do it more often. It's 2.7 miles or so unless I go the long way, which adds about half a mile.
It is an absolutely beautiful night. Temperature in the mid 70's, clear, and calm. Stars in the sky. And VERY quiet. The only noise to be heard is insects chirping in the distance.
It strikes me how peaceful everything is.
I set off on my walk. I realize I forgot my cell phone, then realize I'd rather not have it anyway.
As I reach the end of the block, I see houses with lights on. It appears my block is the only one that's out.
I turn left and continue on my walk. The wind is not blowing at all; the leaves in the trees are perfectly still. No one is out and no cars are going by.
Someone's lawn sprinklers are on, and the jets of water are being sprayed not only on his lawn but across the sidewalk as well. I walk right through them.
I reach the lake, and pause to take in the sight. A light in the distance, reflecting off the water's surface, reveals a flock of ducks, their silhouettes visible in the backlight. As I see a fish swim near the shore, I recall, as a kid, going up to visit my uncle and cousin with my dad and going fishing. I haven't been fishing in, probably, almost 20 years - at least 15. My uncle died earlier this year, and I missed his funeral because I had a migraine. I wish I would have gone.
I continue on my walk and go past the golf course. I hear ducks quacking in the distance. I used to feed the ducks on the golf course in Arizona with my grandparents when we used to fly down there every year to visit.
Past the golf course, houses on either side of the street are lit, yet quiet. My earliest childhood memory is of my dad telling me a bedtime story, a story of a time the power went out in our house. I was 3.
I hope that when my kids grow up, they will remember me telling them bedtime stories when they were 3, too.
I reach the "shortcut" street that leads back to my street; if I turn right here instead of continuing on this road, I will cut half a mile off my walk. I go straight.
I'm almost back to my street when I see the bright lights of what must be a repair truck parked in the road. An older woman looks out her front door, curious about the bright lights, and I say hello. I tell her the power's out on my street, and we chat for a while.
I soon pass the repair truck and reach my street. I am both relieved and disappointed to find that the power is back on. The drone of air conditioners seems louder than normal as I pass the other buildings on my way home.
My alarm clock will work just fine now, jolting me out of sleep so that I can get up and go to work tomorrow.
I wish the power would go out more often.
I step outside and decide, screw it, I'm going for a walk.
I occasionally walk the "loop" around the neighborhood and back. I should do it more often. It's 2.7 miles or so unless I go the long way, which adds about half a mile.
It is an absolutely beautiful night. Temperature in the mid 70's, clear, and calm. Stars in the sky. And VERY quiet. The only noise to be heard is insects chirping in the distance.
It strikes me how peaceful everything is.
I set off on my walk. I realize I forgot my cell phone, then realize I'd rather not have it anyway.
As I reach the end of the block, I see houses with lights on. It appears my block is the only one that's out.
I turn left and continue on my walk. The wind is not blowing at all; the leaves in the trees are perfectly still. No one is out and no cars are going by.
Someone's lawn sprinklers are on, and the jets of water are being sprayed not only on his lawn but across the sidewalk as well. I walk right through them.
I reach the lake, and pause to take in the sight. A light in the distance, reflecting off the water's surface, reveals a flock of ducks, their silhouettes visible in the backlight. As I see a fish swim near the shore, I recall, as a kid, going up to visit my uncle and cousin with my dad and going fishing. I haven't been fishing in, probably, almost 20 years - at least 15. My uncle died earlier this year, and I missed his funeral because I had a migraine. I wish I would have gone.
I continue on my walk and go past the golf course. I hear ducks quacking in the distance. I used to feed the ducks on the golf course in Arizona with my grandparents when we used to fly down there every year to visit.
Past the golf course, houses on either side of the street are lit, yet quiet. My earliest childhood memory is of my dad telling me a bedtime story, a story of a time the power went out in our house. I was 3.
I hope that when my kids grow up, they will remember me telling them bedtime stories when they were 3, too.
I reach the "shortcut" street that leads back to my street; if I turn right here instead of continuing on this road, I will cut half a mile off my walk. I go straight.
I'm almost back to my street when I see the bright lights of what must be a repair truck parked in the road. An older woman looks out her front door, curious about the bright lights, and I say hello. I tell her the power's out on my street, and we chat for a while.
I soon pass the repair truck and reach my street. I am both relieved and disappointed to find that the power is back on. The drone of air conditioners seems louder than normal as I pass the other buildings on my way home.
My alarm clock will work just fine now, jolting me out of sleep so that I can get up and go to work tomorrow.
I wish the power would go out more often.