We just had a beautiful tremendous storm that has our power out even now, several days later…
an “extratropical cyclone,” they say. The flash that I saw sunday night (and thought, “no, there shouldn’t be lightning”) was one of the transformers blowing out. I love to see transformers blowing…
I am in the country now, basking in the world of electricity, woodstove, brought some stout in from town so I’m good to go!
This is the first storm season that I have been living totally dependent on grid power, and it is a bit humbling. My new house has electric cooking and sans electricity, there’s no hot food, but I’m not complaining. The owners of my work establishment (shall I call them bosses) were so generous to open up their doors to all off us “in the family” who needed a place to cook and so forth. It has been a bonding time.
High points of the storm: heading up to Paul’s 8th floor apartment on sunday afternoon to listen to the wind, thinking about environment=instrument, and my question was, “Is one environment or instrument?” and Paul’s answer was “both?”
Maybe it didn’t go quite like that but something… (the stout is getting in the way)
Walking Monday morning with the girls in the 80 (or higher) mph gusts, learning how to keep from being blown over (back to the wind and squat down).
Sitting for an hour in a line for gasoline, not that I really needed gasoline, but I wanted the experience. Why was this a high point? (especially as the pump I was in line for ran out exactly when I got to it)
Humans here don’t seem to have many outlets for their wildness, and this kind of event brings people to their edge, the edge of their comfort zone. It doesn’t take much to push them, and I spent the hour waiting for fuel listening to the human storm raging around me… like a carnival, but more frightening.
Community. How many ways can I count my appreciation for the informal family I have stepped into and helped to create on our small block in Astoria? My heart goes out…
So, a snippet of video that Mark shot standing on a porch on the mouth of Skamokawa creek on Monday morning. Looking away from the river. The wind combined with an ebb tide made for some high drama. I was several miles downriver from where this was filmed.
Speaking of film, between the time of this post and the last, I had flash moment in which my fear of taking photos was diminished if not erased. Thanks go out to soph of stitch blog for her diy camera school. It pushed me over the edge into understanding.
Sadly, I left the camera in town, but you will have photos. Oh will you ever, I promise.