A couple weeks later, we went on a Wyoming fishing trip. There was no cell service. We were off the grid. To add to the isolation, I dropped my phone on gravel the first day, shattering the screen.
I did not panic. I felt deliciously self-sufficient. Lately, I have been concerned at how comfortable I'd gotten with receiving news in bite-sized pieces. No one writes letters. Facebook posts are typically a picture and the briefest of explanations. More like captions.
I'm tired of a captioned life. If all people have time for is sound bites, glimpses of others' realities, I'll take a pass.
Instead of Face-booking, I've done a little sewing, more blogging, and more reading. When we drive anywhere that takes an hour or more, I read Grant, by Ron Chernow, to my husband. At over 900 pages, this biography is taking us months to read. And it is making us both think and learn about American history.
Being off the grid made me feel like I didn't exist anymore. Not in the bustling, frenetic world of electronic connections. I enjoyed being disconnected.
This little beaver slapped its tail on the water to warn me to keep my distance. I told it my kind used to make hats out of its kind. Fortunately for the beaver, fashions changed.
Maybe trends will change for people, too. Instead of superficial exchanges with faceless strangers via electronic devices, maybe we can get back to more meaningful communication.