Energy Conservation


This has been a summer of electrical storms.

At overnight camp in the mountains, storms are particularly exciting events. One notable inconvenience at camp is that the waste removal stations are equipped with electrically powered pumps, so during an outage there is a moratorium on flushing the toilets.

One night, we heard a crack of thunder and the entire area went dark. While most children were tucked safely in their bunks, some campers and staff members were scattered around the camp. We waited in eerily, emergency lit buildings for hours until a bus could be dispatched to take us to our cabins. The “no-flush rule” made the dark evening pass slowly. After five hours of watching the rain and hoping that the food in the fridge wouldn’t spoil, we finally went to sleep.

At home this morning, as the eight-hour mark of a power outage approached, I was grateful for the silence.  The temperature outside was still bearable, the milk remained safely sealed in the fridge and the coffee maker sat silently on the counter top. I sat by the window for an hour—drinking cold water from the tap—and wrote by natural light. When I checked the time on my cell phone, I noticed its battery charge indicator falling steadily and wondered how accurate Georgia Power’s estimate of 10:15 a.m. would be. Some time earlier, two large trucks bearing their logo barreled down the street, inciting barks and howls from many neighborhood dogs.

I found my dog lounging on the cool tiles in the foyer; she was lying still, conserving her energy. At that moment, I made a decision to wait patiently. Some time later, while I was sprawled alongside her, I heard the house begin to hum.


Comments (1)

Beautifully captured. And a video as well. Kol HaKavod!!!

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