It's been raining here, intermittently, for over a week. There are two trees fallen across the trail down the mountain. The electricity is on and off. When it's on, you can watch the lamp glow brightly, then dim, then glow again. Consequently I have everything electronic that's not on a battery back up shut down. I'm using my Kindle for this post since I don't want my computer on while the power is so unsettled. Later I'll turn on the generator for an hour and run the house off that power. Doesn't hurt to use the system once in awhile.
The forest is primeval. With all this rain, and the heat, mist is rising up out of the forest floor. Tonight there will be sprites. Decaying plant matter creates methane pockets. The water forces the gas up out of the pockets, and in the dark it has a fluorescent greenish yellow glow. The Cherokee thought these twisting tendrils of light in the darkness were spirits. The Scots Irish thought they were lost souls, and even today there are plenty of people in the mountains who think that. Even when you know the rational explanation for what you are seeing it's an eerie experience.
The humidity is astronomical and l am going to have an impressive power bill this month. Without climate control equipment mold and mildew would make living here nearly untenable in summer. One of the primary reasons I have a large generator is to insure I can run this equipment in a long outage during the summer. The longest I've ever had to live completely on generator power was two weeks, after the remnants of a gulf hurricane came through and flattened the county. Other than the noise and the stink it wasn't too bad.
Nothing planned for tonight. I'll read for awhile, listen to shortwave, and go on to bed. Sleeping is easy with the rain rattling on the shake roof.