"There is no more beautiful weather than in hurricane season when you're not having a hurricane." (Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea)

A storm full of wind knocked over a utility pole Friday night, severing our connection with the outside world. In an instant, the three programs I had running on the computer were shut down, the radio was silent, and the house was pitch dark. In that moment, the deadlines I had set for myself to complete various projects blew away with the power supply, too. There was nothing left to do but sleep. Beautiful thing.

The storm was an inconvenient and beautiful clearing out of summer humidity. In the morning, I went for a walk amid the trees blown inside out. The still green of summer has given way to a range of beautiful wild flowers that are harbingers of autumn. They in their delicate way have managed the storm better than the mighty power pole.

In the unlit quiet of Saturday, my daughter sat by a window and made hemp bracelets, read, and wrote about dolphins. She washed her dad's car inside and out. She went running and exploring at the park. We shared the day with her doing much the same things, and we found lots of flowers together. Powerless and alone for the day, we found being powerless and alone can be beautiful.