There was that ominous prelude yesterday, mid-afternoon, when the storm clouds rolled in, one after the other, angry and thick and imminent.
And then there was a single, explosive crack of thunder that made me jump right up out of my chair, grab my phone and head to the front porch, where I stood, heart thumping, waiting.
I wanted to collect footage of the moisture and the deep green darkness that blanketed our street—enveloped as we always are by the canopy of tall trees—to send to Christian, who presently lives in a place where nature mostly manifests itself as absence.
And then the sky and everything in the moment seemed to stand still, and in the dark of the charcoal clouds, there was a such a hush, a void of sound, and the most ominous stillness I’ve ever felt outside of a cinema. Like nature sucking in her breath.
And then, the first rain sounds: like rice confetti, then like shelling. And the wind picked up, fierce and angry. I also made out the sounds of an airplane taking off from Dorval (what must that have been like?). It seemed to be groaning, labouring to climb up above the electrically charged cloak of storm clouds.
And I shot short bursts of video that would soon travel to Christian, thanks to a Messenger that’s quick as lightning, and immerse him in WEATHER: green, lush, swishing, howling, rumbling, wet and windy.
And then, around 3pm, the power went out, just as I was finishing. It stayed out till some time during the night. And whatever plans I had or Sylvain had for the rest of the day were snuffed out.
Sensing this could be a long outage, we decided to resist opening the fridge for any reason (and them, immediately began craving drinks with ice!). We ended up going out to eat fast food slowly, delaying powerlessness as long as we could, until finally, we headed home. Out came the candles, which I stacked onto TV tables, placed strategically beside the sofa Sylvain occupied and the armchair I’d settled in, and there we remained, with our books and enough light to lose ourselves in them, quietly, till our eyelids got heavy.