Snowing, cold , stuck indoors, doesn't sound like much fun, because it isn't. The first heavy snow, which usually comes in late December, came in late January and again today instead. And has coupled itself with the brutal cold and ice. I would add in Covid, though it doesn't have much impact on we who live almost off the grid, and don't see anyone from weeks at a time.
Feels like a perfect time to sit by a window, watch the snow, and think of nothing at all. I sat by this same window as a child, wrapped in a blanket and watched to snow falling. Now several decades later, here I am again, same chair but a different blanket, Watching the snow, toes warmed by the coal stove, wishing that the bus couldn't get thru the drifted backroads, the stuff of good memories. My inner child, the real me, has taken over. Though I haven't watched the falling snow in a very long time I feel a long conversation with my self coming on.,
Will stay home tomorrow and consider myself blessed by it
The tracks of deer who haunt the old apple trees by night looking for something to eat, the tracks of coyotes who haunt the deer, the tracks of men and machines, slowly disappear under the muffled paintbrush of wind driven snow. I ache to stretch out into the world, so I watch curtains of snow flakes, each one different and unique. And as I watch, I see glimmers,of a days past, glimmers of what a quiet mind feels like. A covering of unimaginable numbers of snowflakes blankets the wood pile, the coal pile, and vehicles that will remain parked in the yard for awhile anyway. Here I sit, something that was at first, now feels familiar and welcoming.
And it is quiet now except for a few passing vehicles, and the swoosh of snow falling from the bowing limbs of 150 year old pine trees, This is that place, that place between then and now "a place just right" . where my inner child and outer adult are both comfortable, mind quieted, at peace, Blessed by the richness of life, strengthened in the forge of happiness and tears, meetings and partings, gladdened and lost in the whirl of life. Curious about many things,saddened and angered by some things, apprehensive about the future, if there is one. Here sit I waiting to see what happens next. This being the joy, that can come from of stillness. The stillness that gave me room to think, the thoughts that comforted my soul, the soul that was searching and questioning and still does.
I don't like winter, it is cold, and nasty and I have to wear shoes.
