Wind blew as I drifted to sleep, strongest I’ve heard in years. Countless maples so close to the house. At first I wrote “too close,” but deleted it. Who am I to say. Adrenaline did not course through me as it often does when the winds howl, the lack of which I attribute to not having read or watched a single news report predicting the night’s turmoil. I didn’t get the memo, so I forgot to feel afraid.
Now it is 4am, Adam just took a drive and discovered plenty of closed roads and trees across power lines. Schools are cancelled. Guess it was quite a storm. They say power will be out for a while.
The room is lit by the golden warmth of candlelight and the harsh blue glare of this computer screen. I wonder if anyone out there would find the blue light prettier than the soft glow of beeswax. I don’t think so. For some reason, I think of our president, and wonder if he’s up yet, if he’s tweeted the day’s diplomacy. I wonder what it would be like if he was here. I’d close the computer and we’d sit in amiable silence, watching the beauty of a single beeswax flame. I wonder if he would enjoy the lingering scent of honey. How could he not.