I always enjoy these voluntary tastes of darkness, and even sometimes the involuntary power outage ones. They somehow only reinforce the sense that we human animals would benefit from tasting of "real darkness" more often. The absence of electric glare has a calming, quieting effect. Once more I found myself way more relaxed than I would have been after an hour of more "electrified" activities. (Which is not to say that I'm ready to give up electricity altogether. But maybe less?)
This morning I remembered a lovely poem, "To Know the Dark," by Wendell Berry, about getting to know the darkness outside. Here it is (though I can't vouch for the line breaks, or even that this is the whole of it):
To Know the Dark
To go in the dark with a light
is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark.
Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings
and is travelled by dark feet and dark wings.