Extremes of weather here mean powercuts - a line goes down and we are in darkness. While this dusting of snow can hardly be called an extreme it's obviously been enough to interrupt supply. A couple of lights glow for a couple of minutes then fade to black. We look at each other - or rather we look at the blackness where we assume the other to be - before groping for candles and matches. We eat the remainder of our dinner by candlelight.
How quiet the room has suddenly become - the ambient and electric sounds are missing - but not I think, missed. Fridge, Aga, heating, lights, TV, computer, phones. Gone. The Kitchen Clock marks time - we have not noticed it before - but now its tick is like a heartbeat. The night is serene and dark and peaceful. We glow in the silky warmth of candlelight and hear the wind whisper beyond the door. A log tumbles to ashes on the fire - we hear that too - and the crick and crack of cooling appliances cut off from their electric lifelines.
It wouldn't do forever, but tonight surrounded by snowy fields, candlelight and the fire's glow this silence is quite a magic thing.