A Quiet Season
It caught me by surprise. A late-January thunderstorm. We don’t get all that many ‘round these here parts about now.
It was a fast and furious affair. Lightning, thunder, rain smashing against windows. All in all, a most curious affair in a season noted for frigid cold and snow.
Though, in fact, there’s been little snow and hardly any frigid cold to speak of. This has been a dodgy season. One filled with day after day after day of damp and drear, dirt, fog and lethargy.
A quiet season.
It dawned on me, just a few days ago, that my days have been silent. There have been no organic sounds. Branches haven’t creaked, winds haven’t whistled. Songbirds fled south months ago.
There’s the sound of the furnace shoving air about. Not much more.
Silence has infused my marrow.
I drift as if a lotus-eater. Each day quieter than the day before. No words.
* * *
posted by Jonas | 2/08/2012 10:35:00 PM
8 Comments:
It's really strange to me how silent my world is now that I'm alone. I do not turn on music. I have no TV. Often, I wear ear plugs to drown out the riotous noise of my neighbors. Quiet, quiet, quietly life moves within and without. Once it was so loud! A strange season indeed. Hope you are well Jonas.
Will we soon long for the winters of old, the snow days and waiting for the snowplow to come through? I almost bought snowshoes for Christmas. What a waste of money that would've been. I love thunderstorms. But not in winter.
I have noticed (and regretted) the silence of your days. I hope that silence brings peace with it, Jonas.
from silence to sound
from night to dawn
from winter to summer
from death to life
a resurrection
soon, I hope
There is a lot to be said for silence. Sometimes it can be reinvigorating (which I hope is the case for you, Jonas.) We have had a lot of thunderstorms too, of late and I will admit that they have been subduing my spirits somewhat. Here's to brighter days for all!
sounds like it describes most of my winter days now. it does seem rather silent. though I wonder if it's good or bad but mostly it's just the way things are.
Your birds go away on the winter? That's sad. They are a constant around here - I need their sounds as a signal of life.
I had me some wine, and my ears are filled with sad songs...
Time to give proper thanks, methinks.
Oh, sweet Annie, I understand that silence well! True enough that we each come to times of silence. True, too, that all things must pass. I'm hoping that laughter comes soon to pierce the silence...for you and me both.
I've always loved thunderstorms, Yvonne. However/whenever. I also love the seasons, desultory though they may sometimes be. They mark the passage of days and remind us that Life is ever-changing. And those thunderstorms? They rock the soul and wake the dead. I consider that a good thing.
Ah, Patti, thank you! In point of fact, I feel a certain peace. That's not to say I'm happy or sad. I simply sit cross-legged contemplating my rice bowl.
Yes, Kass, a Resurrection is what I'm hankerin'.
Yes! Yes! Brighter days, Selma! They're coming...they're just around the corner...for you and me both.
Hello, Lissa! Silence and winter days have their place, as do raucous summer days. Each a thread in a tapestry we call life.
Sigh. It's true, my Quaker friend, our songbirds flee in winter. But, hey, we love 'em fervently when they return.
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