Easter Morning

I knew that the orange butterfly wasn't real the minute I first saw it. But the altar was so lovely, just covered in flowers on this beautiful sunny morning, that I just had to have a picture of it. And so after the Easter service was over, I walked up and took a few shots, and I made sure to include the butterfly, a symbol of rebirth and transformation, so appropriate on this day.

It was an Easter celebration we weren't sure we were going to make it to. And in fact, the degree of difficulty was quite high. Our power went out at 5:30 p.m. on Saturday evening and stayed out until just about 2 a.m. Sunday morning. The news later revealed that an equipment failure had left 3600 local homes and businesses in darkness.

And so Saturday evening, as darkness fell, my husband and I tried to decide what to do. We had plans to meet family for church in the Johnstown area - Mundy's Corner, to be more specific - which meant an early morning for us. Then there would be a delicious meal out somewhere, followed by a nice, long family visit.

But what if the power wasn't back on by morning? Could we make it to church? Should we leave the house alone without power? And with neither of us owning cell phones and having just a land-line phone that works only when connected to electricity (which we didn't have), how would we even let family know if we decided we couldn't make it?

So we tried to have a pleasant evening, but a current of worry ran underneath it. We lit candles and got out LED lanterns. We set up an iPod and a little speaker and we had music, so all was not lost. But it was far less fun than the plans we had had, which included movies and TV and . . . well, lights to see by. You know, the things we normally take for granted on a Saturday night, like entertainment, food and drink, heat and light.

As a child, I remember thinking that a power outage always seemed a delightful adventure, what with the candles and all; an escape from everyday life; fun and games. You could pretend to be living in the old west, or camping out in the wilderness. But as an adult, your thoughts turn to more mundane considerations, like how long will all of the frozen stuff in the freezer stay frozen, and what about the fridge, and so on.

So we kept the fridge and freezer closed as much as possible to help the cold things stay cold. And were thankful that we'd heated up and eaten a frozen pizza right before the power went out. And we put in our evening and went to bed in darkness, not knowing what would happen next or whether we'd be able to keep our plans.

The cat, who normally sleeps much of the evening, didn't like our newfound darkness. He seemed out of sorts, and kept scooting around furtively from room to room. He didn't like not having light or any of our normal routines. (Cats are creatures of ritual and habit and they like it that way. And I do too. So in that way, I am somewhat like a cat, which is probably part of why cats and I tend to get along so famously.)

The power came back on with a loud BEEP!!!! just before 2 in the morning. The fire alarm is wired into the electric system, and so any time the power comes and goes, it is heralded by a loud BEEP. We wouldn't want to keep you guessing as to whether we have power or not, would we? Let's shout it out loud!

And so we awoke early on Sunday to find our normal life restored. In other circumstances, we might even have been a bit grumpy about such an early morning on the weekend. But by this time, we felt like we'd managed to pull it all off by the skin of our teeth. So we were happy to have back all of the things we took for granted; and delighted to be able to celebrate Easter.

So . . . Hallelujah! And happy Easter!

The song to accompany this image is a flashmob performance of a joyous tune. It begins with just a single man, and then a second man joins him, and then they add more and more instruments, and finally singers join in. The tune is Beethoven's Symphony No. 9, the Ode to Joy.