On hold

I write the draft of this blog post sitting outside after the first storm had passed. Another one is brewing on the eastern horizon. It's cooler than in the house with the fan heads silent, making mocking shadows on the ceiling. In this quietness I ponder the function of the internet.

There is a quietness that comes
when the power goes off
no sprinkle of water from the fish filter
screens stop their barking nonsense
no low-hertz hum of the fridge
a quietness

Anything I 'need' the internet for is going on hold (including my paid day job). I know it's temporary. I'm a city dweller, somebody will be repairing the issue. I'm passionate about edtech and in the last decade my work has (r)evolved around making other people comfortable and able to effective use tech tools for teaching and learning.

With the power off I can hear the bird song and feel the movement of grass under my bare feet. I watch the ants. My thoughts wander, a free rambling, fragments caught on paper. I want this moment to stretch but as soon as the power comes back, it will initiate different action.

I have enough gas
to boil water
hot tea – a panacea
lit by a flickering candle
pulse beats sound loud
in times of quietness