Yesterday from 8:30 to 9:30 pm was the WWF's Earth Hour
. So I lit the cottage's emergency candles, stoked the stove and turned off the lights. I had planned to spend the hour peacefully reading. Have you ever tried
to read by 4 candles and a plateful of tealights? With the eyes of youth, maybe, but I'd spent the day at the computer, pushing through a second draft I'd promised myself I'd have finished by the day before. Old eyes, over-used, on strike. So no reading. So I decided I would write a poem. After all, there I was, sitting right in the middle of a metaphor. And I could write BIG so I could see what I was doing. Use the time, Joan! But I didn't do that either.
Instead I watched the candles. Then I watched the fire. Then I watched the light from the fire flicker on the ceiling. Then I watched the red tulips with their green leaves in the white jug, in the candle-light.
That's what I did for Earth Hour.
It was really, really nice.