Early morning thunder in my ears, Zeus a busy god with his striking transformers, trees, and a host of things. Vacillating lights out and on as another hit is made.
The old wind-up radio, useful with the power out. We children, not survivors compared to the days when kerosene lamps glowed whether Mother Nature threw a tantrum.
Broken when the cell phone towers go down and lights off, we are lost.
Grandpa and Gramma had salted meat preserves, homemade canning, and a reliable hand pump that require muscle power.
Tody we panic when the internet retreats to the clouds and wander aimlessly in the forests of civilization halted in what would be minor convenience to those in the past except for when the winds really blew.
The more learned, the more forgotten.