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"I pray this Winter be gentle and kind--a season of rest from the wheel of the mind"- John Geddes
Every season has a sound. Spring is birdsong. Windows that were shut for months creak as they are opened. The humming vacuum cleaner, the click of pruning shears. It's like yawning when waking up from a deep slumber. Summer is just loud. Ice cream trucks, children playing, the blasting radio from a passing car, people walking, dogs barking. Autumn is quieter, but there are still some distinct sounds: leaf blowers, the swish of a rake, rustling leaves moved by gusty winds. The voices of passing "trick o'treaters" on Halloween Day.
Winter arrives bringing a sign that reads: "Silence spoken here." Everything is muffled, everyday sounds crash against tightly closed windows but when snow falls there is a certain sound. It's the sound of nothing. The sound of a city pushed by Nature to stop and seek shelter. The world as we know it stands still. It is such a night here. As I stand by my window I feel my soul relax and close within itself and I am thinking, this is good and just for a while, I will let myself go. I will stand here and the only sound I'll hear is the beating of my heart.
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