Night descended on old Eramosa last Sunday evening, as in much of rural Wellington, without a light to be seen for miles.
Gusts of wind had shaken and toppled mighty hydro poles causing a power outage. Trees with even the slightest of soft spots sagged or fell onto properties. The power of nature should never be underestimated.
As if there wasn’t enough worry in the world, thousands of homes were plunged into darkness that night. As of press deadline some communities still do not have their power on. Hydro crews did an exceptional job under trying conditions.
It is these moments that provide a bit of clarity on how lucky people generally are and the great conveniences people often take for granted.
The flush of a toilet, fresh water from the tap, lighting at the flick of a switch and latterly the access to internet streaming were all on hold. Typically, Canadians live the life of kings and queens, or so that is the way we see it. This short term outage would be another wait-and-see event that wouldn’t last forever. That’s how most minds work to steel themselves for the challenge ahead.
In the dark, aided only by candles, flames from the woodstove danced around the living room. It quickly became an indoor campground for our younger two kids. They were warm, the house was quiet and sleep descended earlier than usual.
As has become a ritual the last few months, four o’clock in the morning rise and shine came, but it wasn’t quite the same. Despite going to bed early, that feeling of being off and poorly rested consumed our first steps that morning.
A quick trip to town confirmed hydro was on at the office so the work-day wouldn’t be interrupted. All the tick marks of normality were taking form, including a piping hot medium two milk, one sugar coffee, but that nagging feeling of being out of sorts persisted. An eventual shower washed it away and added a bit of a spring to the step, but those few hours without hydro made for a moment of reflection.
While an inconvenient outage for 12 hours pales in comparison to the plight of the homeless or those without access to what most of us consider basic services – they must feel horribly out of sorts every day. The blessings many of us take for granted are not available to all.
Imagine for a moment – day in and day out – being uncertain where the next resting stop comes or worrying about food and clothing.
Readers have much to be thankful for and hopefully such a reminder motivates everyone to be extra thoughtful this winter. Care packages, fundraisers and clothing drives – there is so much to do to help others less fortunate.
If a moment of sharing and caring warms a heart long enough to shed the out of sorts blues even for a short time, let’s do that for others.