Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Sound of Silence
I had thoughts of going out this afternoon - to the library, to the gym, to the store. Two hours ago the sun was shining as I hiked along a meadow's edge and explored a stream bank for signs of Spring. Two hours ago the chickadee and the cardinal were singing. Now snow is falling thickly, a silent, drifting veil of dense flakes. On second thought, I think I shall stay in and curl up with the cat, a mug of hot tea, and a good book. It is very, very quiet in my little cottage. I am missing my grandchildren with a gentle, steady ache that will subside slowly over the next few days.
I have been out in the yard, tilting my head up to stare into the white. As far as I can see there are tumbling flakes and a diffused light that only comes with falling snow. Now I am dry and snug and merely lonesome for small arms and soft lips and the high-pitched chatter of happy children.