Peace and quiet

Sometimes when we are treated to a power cut (stolen cables or a severed cable at the roadworks nearby), I think back to the days of loadshedding, a time when we were all being fooled that there was a problem with electricity supply in this country when in fact it was a plan to loot the coffers. 

Ah! Loadshedding! I wonder whether Eskom realised what a gift we were given in those dark hours? An opportunity to shed the load of mankind’s technology and commune once more with nature as it was intended. A respite from the incessant buzz of daily life and a chance to listen to the voice of the wind, soughing through the boughs of the trees, the night birds calling shrilly down at the shore, the silent stars moving in an eternal dance across the canopy of the night, only the planets shifting position in the firmament as they spin around the star that gives us life.

Our senses seem to heighten in the darkness to compensate for our dimmed vision, and we can hear the silence as peace settles across the land. Only the rhythmic flashing of the lighthouse beam on the treetops as its beacon lights the way for seafarers disturbs the darkness. Inside, a single candle flame illuminates the house, mocking the light bulbs that hang useless from their wires, dependent on man’s technology to provide day by night.

And suddenly the light returns and the spell is broken.