The lights have been gradually coming back on since Friday night’s knockout storm that brought down trees and power lines across the entire metro D.C. area.
But not in our building.
In the big picture, ours is a boutique blackout. The huge apartment complex across the street had power the day after the storm. The somewhat more modest buildings behind us have lights, cameras, action.
We have flashlights, flickering through the pitch-dark stairwells and halls.
On the first day after the treepocalypse, as we adjusted to the new status quo in our building – no air conditioning, no refrigeration, no internet – our hearts raced every time we heard the throaty rumble of a Pepco truck’s approach. But in the first two days the electric crews had their hands full.
People died in this storm. It shot through our steamy region like a tornado without the twist. It was, we’re told, a thing of historic proportions. So, we hunkered down to wait. And considering that many people lost houses, cars and more, we count ourselves lucky to be among the flashlight brigade.
Ironically, among the things I’m thankful for are the enormous trees still standing around town. D.C. is known as a city of monuments, public places and policy makers. But it’s the stunning expansive tree canopy which cloaks the hard lines, shades the glare, and gives the city its air of grace and charm.
Some of these trees are centuries old, their limbs reaching out fifty feet and more, turning many a tree-lined street into a vaulted leafy cathedral. It’s heaven for a tree-worshipper.
But when a ferocious derechos – a rare storm system which moves in a straight line – packing winds of 65 mph and up, lashes into trees heavy with lush wet leaves, something’s got to give.
It was a record-breaking 104 degrees the day the storm arrived. Some people say this is the sort of extreme weather we can expect more of as global warming gets its act in gear. Others, of course, say global warming is just one of those silly scientific theories. Like evolution.
Ah, humanity. So proud, so nuts.
And on the third day
Pepco trucks massed on our street.
Chainsaws sounded sweet.
When, after a full day of sawing, chipping and shredding, they finally drove off, we assumed that the power would be restored.
Silly humans.
Today, the fifth without power for those of you playing along somewhere else, the routine has lost its novelty. Crankiness festers. Fun’s fun, but even flashlight tag grows tiresome. Especially when the batteries lose their zip.
However, the sun came up today. In the distance you can hear the strident beep of a backup horn, no doubt another Pepco “reliability” agent on the job. The rush and bustle of the careworn world goes on, with or without AC/DC, even in D.C.
Perhaps tomorrow, on the Fourth of July, even if things haven’t improved, we can all join hands for a moment or two and share the buzz of excitement. Who knows? Maybe freedom from electricity will be the next Big Thing.