A few nights ago the temperature dropped down to the single digits- very unusual for this part of North Carolina. Part of the whole system of winter storms that were ravaging much of the country over the Christmas holidays. We had several power outages over the next three days- fortunately none that lasted more than a few hours at a time.
But here’s what really struck me. On this one particular evening the power went out somewhere around 9 pm. I was watching TV, my Christmas tree was lit up- and suddenly I was in total darkness. Fortunately I had already gotten a bunch of candles out planning for Christmas. I had a some beautiful silver tapers that I was saving just for the holidays and they were all laid out on my dining room table. I went through the house setting up candle holders and lighting candles and tealights. I enjoyed the ambience for a while and then decided to just go to bed early. The house hadn’t gotten too cold yet but I figured under the covers was the best place to be. So I cozied up under my quilt and an extra mohair blanket.
And then I noticed the silence.
I live on a dead end road with only a few houses on it- a cul-de-sac really but a longer one than you see in a suburban neighborhood. The houses are all quite far apart- each of them having large lots and some with at least a couple of acres of land around them. It’s very “quiet”, as a rule. Sometimes I hear chickens or cows off in the distance and occasionally a neighbor’s voice will carry this way in the wind when I am outside. There is virtually no road traffic. We’re not on a flight path so there are no planes flying overhead- except for the occasional fighter jets, once every 2-3 months- that go thundering across the sky from one of the Air Force bases. It’s almost always pretty quiet unless someone has some kind of machinery going- a lawnmower, a chainsaw, a tractor…but there is always some sound. Right now I can hear my dishwasher. The neighbor’s dog has been barking for close to an hour almost nonstop. I hear the intermittent low level hum of my refrigerator and occasionally the louder sound of it making some more ice. The sound of the fan blowing warm air when the heat kicks on. The clicking of the keys as I tap the keyboard. And underneath it all, I hear my own inner sound, a subtle constant movement of energy I can only liken to a very refined “white noise”. Even with the gross sounds around me right now, I can hear that inner sound.
But that night, when I got into my bed, I realized it might have been the closest thing to pure silence that I have ever heard. It was 3 degrees outside. There were no animals, no birds, no insects, no electrical hum in the house because there was no electricity! And I don’t have a fireplace- so that one possibility of the familiar sound of flames crackling and snapping was not to be.
I have been without power before, many times. But I don’t remember, ever, the sense of such utter stillness. I have listened to falling snow when there was no wind. It has a distinct sound- one of my favorite sounds in fact. In both summer and winter, during or after a storm or a hurricane, I have been without power- sometimes for days. But in the summer there are insects and birds, or wind, or rain. Day or night there is pretty much always the constant sound of nature if one does not live in an urban setting. (And if you do, of course there is all manner of sound- motor vehicles, doors closing, kids playing, etc., etc.)
This was disorienting and slightly unnerving. I realized that when we lose power in this area in the summer there is almost a relief- a comfort- because suddenly you hear all the sounds of nature. It is warm and inviting. You might even want to go sit outside and just enjoy it. But this was a different experience. I didn’t want to leave the candles lit when I went to bed so I walked through the house to my bedroom blowing out all the candles on my way. I just left one in the bathroom and I had a flashlight in case I needed it.
But once I got into bed, it was pitch black. And silent. The awareness of it woke something up inside of me and all I could do was lie in bed and listen to it.
