On July 23, 2016, a storm blew through the state of Vermont leaving many without power. In the town of Ripton, where I was visiting, 51 people were left without electricity for almost a 24-hour period. It always seems that when I make trips up to visit my aunt and uncle for a few days, the power shorts out and leaves us in the dark. Living in the dark, with no cell service or running water, was a slight wake up call for myself. It really taught me how spoiled I had become and what I was taking for granted in my everyday life.

Twenty-four hours isn’t a long amount of time to go without power. It’s actually quite a short amount and it’s also a lie. Generators buzzed on all over the mountain, even here on the lot where I was staying. It allowed us to check our emails and flush our toilets. So even though we were able to have those little delicacies, I took it as a chance to soak in some time without the hum of machinery.

The three of us sat around the dinner table and ate pasta, red sauce, bread and salad for dinner with candle light glowing on our faces. We would vocally wish for the power to come back on, even occasionally calling the electric company to see if they had an estimated time for when the lights would come back on. But the darkness gave us a chance to be a little more lighthearted and joke around. There was a sharing of stories, mostly about traveling to places all around the world. Stories that took us through security checks and scary memories that could be looked at with giggles now that they were years in the past. It was a pleasant night being able to just chat while collecting flashlights and finding jugs of water for emergency use.

As time went on, we all started to get worn out. We were still wondering when the power would come back to us, but there was still no estimate on when the power lines would be fixed. We all assigned ourselves a flashlight and headed to bed.

I stood in the bathroom, the flame of a candle flickering on the ceiling, giving me just enough light to see my face in the mirror. I wiped down my cheeks, forehead, chin and chest with witch hazel and brushed my teeth with splashes of water from a jug. I curled up in bed with a headlamp and book.

At 3:42 a.m. I woke and rolled over to test my bedside lamp. Still no power.

At 7:50 a.m. I woke again to a buzzing noise, running water and internet connection. I got up and flicked on my light switch, but nothing became illuminated. Then the buzzing stopped and my signal was gone. The generator had been switched off.

I came downstairs to find a pot of water boiling on the stove, my aunt was going to make us some tea. I picked out a spiced home blend that had been given as a gift. We sat out on the front porch in the sunshine, soaking up warmth and reading books. I watched at least half a dozen hummingbirds zoom around the gardens, feasting on nectar from an array of flowers. There was a beauty in the silence that came from the lack of electricity.

I was thinking about the messages I could send to my friends and family, and the stories I would be able to tell. I thought about how fun it had been to live in the dark for a day. Then, around 11:40 a.m. on July 24, 2016, there was a beep from the oven. Our power was back on.