This is an opinion column

When the storm blew in last week, our trees swayed in the wind like dancers at a drunken ball. The birds clung to the feeders on the deck for one last meal before the wind whooshed them away.

Looking out from our glass doors, my husband said things looked bad, but at least the power was still on. And then it wasn’t. We were unplugged for what would turn out to be 12 hours.