You know, it's funny how guilt can sneak up on you. After my husband died and I was going through all our stuff, boxing up decades of accumulated things we never really needed, I kept thinking about what my granddaughter Emma had said to me a few months earlier. She was doing some school project about climate change, and she mentioned – not in a mean way, just matter-of-factly – that her generation was going to have to deal with all the environmental problems my generation had created. She wasn't trying to make me feel bad, but boy, it sure did.
I'd been hearing about solar panels for years, seeing them pop up on roofs around the neighborhood, but I always figured they were for those crunchy granola types or people with way more money than sense. Bob used to joke that our neighbor Jerry was probably spending more on those panels than he'd ever save on electricity. We'd drive past houses with solar installations and Bob would shake his head, muttering about "throwing good money after bad." I just went along with it, you know? Didn't really think about it much beyond that.
But after Emma's comment, and after spending weeks sorting through all our unnecessary purchases – I swear we had four different coffee makers in the basement, still in boxes – I started paying attention to those news stories about climate change that I'd been sort of tuning out for years. The more I learned, the worse I felt about the way we'd been living. All that convenience, all that consumption, all that waste. And for what?
So last spring, I decided to actually look into solar panels. Not because I thought I'd save a fortune – though that would be nice – but because I wanted to do something. Anything. I'm sixty-eight years old, I don't have decades left to make up for all the environmental damage I've been part of. But I've got some time, and I've got this house, and maybe I could at least try.
The research part was overwhelming at first. So many different companies, so many different types of panels, so many calculations about sun exposure and roof angles and energy usage. I felt like I needed an engineering degree just to figure out where to start. My son-in-law helped me understand some of the technical stuff – he's good with that kind of thing – but mostly I just called around to different solar companies and asked a lot of questions.
The quotes I got ranged from about eight thousand dollars to over twenty thousand, depending on how big a system they thought I needed. That's a lot of money on a fixed income, no matter how you look at it. But then I started learning about all the incentives and tax credits available. Massachusetts has some pretty good programs for solar installation, plus there's the federal tax credit, and my utility company has rebates too. When I added it all up, the actual cost was going to be maybe half of the original quotes.
Even so, I went back and forth on it for months. Talked to neighbors who had solar panels, read every article I could find, calculated and recalculated the numbers. The financial payoff seemed real – my electric bills were running about a hundred and fifty dollars a month, and the solar system was supposed to cut that down to almost nothing, maybe even generate excess power I could sell back to the grid. Over ten or fifteen years, it would more than pay for itself.
But honestly, the money wasn't really the deciding factor. It was thinking about Emma, and about all those plastic bottles and disposable everything we'd consumed over the years without thinking about where it all went. I wanted to be able to tell her I'd tried to do better, even if it was late in the game.
The installation took two days in August. Three guys showed up with a truck full of panels and equipment, spent the morning mapping out exactly where everything would go, then started drilling and mounting and running cables. I have to admit, watching them work on my roof made me nervous – this house is forty years old, and I kept worrying about leaks or structural damage. But they seemed to know what they were doing, and they were careful about explaining each step.
The moment they flipped the switch and the system went live was pretty exciting. There's this little monitor that shows how much electricity you're generating in real time, and seeing those numbers climb as the sun hit the panels felt like magic. Here I was, actually making electricity from sunlight, in my own backyard. My mother would have thought it was science fiction.
My first electric bill after the solar installation was twelve dollars. Twelve dollars! Instead of a hundred and fifty. I actually called the electric company to make sure it wasn't a mistake. In October, when we had that stretch of really sunny days, my system generated more power than I used, and the electric company paid me for the excess. Not much – maybe thirty dollars – but still. I was actually selling electricity back to the grid.
The whole experience got me thinking about other ways to generate power at home. I'd always associated wind turbines with those massive installations you see driving through farm country, but it turns out you can get smaller residential wind turbines too. Started researching that, though I have to say, it's a lot more complicated than solar.
Wind power depends so much on your location and local wind patterns. You need pretty consistent winds of at least ten or fifteen miles per hour to make it worthwhile, and you need to check local zoning laws because some neighborhoods don't allow wind turbines. Plus they're more expensive than solar panels, and they have moving parts that can break down or need maintenance.
I had a company come out to assess my property for wind power potential. Guy spent an hour walking around with some kind of measuring device, checking wind speeds and directions, looking at obstacles like trees and neighboring houses. His conclusion was that my location might work for a small turbine, but probably wouldn't generate enough power to justify the cost. The tall oak trees in my backyard block too much wind, and the houses are too close together.
That was a little disappointing, but the solar panels are working out great. My electric bills for the whole year averaged about twenty-five dollars a month, compared to the hundred and fifty I was paying before. That's over fifteen hundred dollars in savings, which means the system will pay for itself in maybe six or seven years instead of the ten or twelve I'd originally calculated.
More importantly, though, I feel like I'm actually doing something positive instead of just consuming and wasting like I did for most of my adult life. When I look at those panels on my roof, I think about all the coal or natural gas that isn't being burned to power my house. It's not going to save the world single-handedly, but it's something.
The neighbors have had mixed reactions. A couple people have asked detailed questions about the installation process and costs, clearly considering doing it themselves. Others seem to think I'm being eccentric or showing off. Mrs. Patterson next door made some comment about how it was "too bad" I had to "ruin the look" of my roof with those panels. I just smiled and didn't bother explaining that I care more about my granddaughter's future than about maintaining some 1950s suburban aesthetic.
I've started talking to other people my age about renewable energy options. There's a surprising amount of interest, especially among folks who remember when we lived more frugally and wasted less. We understand that some of the old ways of doing things were actually better than all this modern convenience culture that we got swept up in.
The challenge is getting past the upfront costs and the perceived complexity. A lot of people my age are intimidated by new technology, worried about being taken advantage of by salespeople, concerned about making major changes to their homes. I try to share what I learned, connect them with reputable installers, explain the financial incentives that are available.
What surprises me is how good it feels to be generating my own power instead of just buying it from some big utility company. There's something satisfying about seeing those solar panels soaking up sunshine and turning it into electricity for my lights and refrigerator and washing machine. It feels like I'm participating in the solution instead of just being part of the problem.
I'm not going to pretend that installing solar panels makes up for forty years of wasteful consumption and environmental thoughtlessness. But it's a start. Combined with all the other changes I've made – walking more, driving less, reducing waste, being more mindful about what I buy – it feels like I'm finally living according to values I should have been following all along.
The technology keeps getting better and cheaper too. The panels I installed last year are more efficient and cost less than the ones my neighbor Jerry put in three years ago. Wind turbine technology is advancing as well, and maybe in a few years there will be better options for residential use in locations like mine.
For now, I'm content with my solar setup and the dramatic reduction in my electricity bills. Every month when I get that tiny electric bill, I think about Emma and feel a little less guilty about the environmental mess my generation is leaving behind. It's not enough, but it's something. And sometimes something is how you start changing everything.
Donna’s retired but not slowing down. She spends her days gardening, reusing, and finding peace in simpler living. Her writing blends reflection with realism—gentle reminders that sustainability starts at home, in daily habits and quiet choices.
