One Saturday in Central California, along the coast, I was leaving my job, about 3:35 pm. By the time I managed to get to my car and arrived at the first traffic light which wasn't working I knew something was awry. Power was out in several states. However, with an optomistic spirit, after arriving home with several plants purchased at a Nursery, I prepared to plant the Maidenhair Ferns and Begonias in the quiet air.
The car radio newscaster had advised turning off the main power switch at home, so I had, then proceded to plant the flowers, and watered them; planted more and watered them, too. The turtles were hiding in the still pond--the pump stopped and the turtles needed care--more water.
Alone, I sat in the backyard playing soulful melodies on a harmonica to the turtles and the bunnies. The turtles appeared to be graciously impressed with my talents, they came to the surface so I could rescue them to a clean tub of WATER.
Hours drifted gently, darkness blanketed my scenery. Vain attempts were made searching for candles, batteries, and flashlights. Perhaps the radio batteries still worked. Noise! "Water is in short supply, people are drinking from their commode tanks," breaking the sweet solitude.
Reality returned--I hoped all the water I used didn't haunt me if this blackout lasted too long.
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