Winter Wonderland

A few days ago, an angry winter storm blew in off the Pacific and kicked our asses. Hurricane-force winds mellowed slightly before they reached dear old Portland ripping up trees and knocking our power out overnight and into the next day.

Last night a transformer somewhere blew up and a big chunck of suburbia went black again. Not us, thank you Jesus, but directly across the street from us, our neighbors were in the dark.

Cedar Hills Boulevard is a major artery in Beaverton, flanked by all manor of fast-food restaurants, grocery stores, big box retaliers and a BMW dealership.

Making our way home last night, driving on a Cedar Hills Blvd that was as dark and empty as a country road was really. . . . creepy.

"This must be a nuclear holocoust would be like," I thought and shivered as I tried very carefully to get home in the dark.

I don't think I've ever been so happy to see the lights of home.

Literally.