I woke up to the terrifying sound of my huge oak tree whipping against my roof and house in the sudden severe windstorms we had in Los Angeles this week. I got up and kept an anxious watch (but wanted to hide under the bed)  as the power lines snapped and sparked around the street and the extreme wind gusts made intense howling sounds I hope never to hear again. In the morning, the entire neighborhood and area were out early surveying our homes, yards, and cars and openly sharing our experiences of fear from the night before, even though many were total strangers that just happened to live on our street. 

Many had extreme damage. Huge trees were literally uprooted and now lay across cars, houses, and streets, and it was a shocking and emotional scene. We all skipped our usual morning routines (no power makes that pretty easy) and got to work on cleaning up with a sense of comradery and purpose I had not experienced before. It turned out to be an incredibly sweet day and experience despite the seeming chaos and devastation, and it still fascinates me that within this random weather twist there was a huge perspective shift for all. I am grateful for the simple reminder that we really are all in this together and appreciate the magic and convenience of electricity in a way you only can after you lose it for awhile.