My sister-in-law’s been nearly a week without power, thanks to a nasty windstorm up in Seattle. When we spoke yesterday, she and her clan were on a mission – seeking a cooked breakfast and a re-charge for her cell phone. Later, off to a matinee to get warm.

This is a hearth-loving homeschool mama with a big dog and a vigorous boy. It’s been tough, there’s no doubt.

But in the midst of my sympathetic murmurings, she interrupts me with songs of praise for her neighbors. They’d been spilling out of doors, gathering in the streets, checking on one another…

“It’s been really good for us,” she said.

And I’m reminded of an autumn, eight years back, when flash flooding washed us from our home, along with many others on our street. Within a day, we were crying in each other’s muddy garages, sharing cinnamon rolls and insurance woes. A couple months later – water receded and sheetrock re-hung – we were a changed community. Before, we’d shared a mail route and the occasional stick of butter. Now, we were friends, companions, family.

Odd to think that one needs backyard fences swept away or windows blown out by gale-force storms to realize who we live amongst.

These days, we all seem to spend more time emailing or phone-calling from our cars than chatting with the folks next door. There are myriad excuses, many of them reasonable at first glance: We are busy. So are they. Streets aren’t safe for crossing. Everyone needs a little downtime (or privacy, or space). We need fences for our dogs. We need fences for our kids. Maybe after we clean up/fix up/add on/remodel. And (my personal favorite) THEY (capital T-H-E-Y) are strangers. Well, duh. We all start out that way.

But then, one day, we’re not. Our children venture into each other’s yards, we help lift something heavy from the hatchback of a car, we happen upon someone laughing or swearing or weeping OUTSIDE, for all the world to see. Or, that someone is us. And almost in spite of ourselves, we begin the wrapping up of others into our hearts.

“Good fences make good neighbors” made sense, back in the day. There were herds to keep track of and crops to keep safe. But in our tidy little urban and suburban lives, good fences do nothing more than keep us apart from those whose daily presence should be a stable comfort. I say bring on the wind and rain. Blow open the doors and windows. See who’s home next door.