The earth has tilted. It's colder now. Our little blue dot is leaning timidly away from the sun. We are in the deep breath of winter now, though it only began... today.
The passing week's snowfall is but a fading memory, its patchwork remnants blanket the nooks & bends that the day's sunlight could not find a way to breach. I've always found that after a day's fresh snowfall, when the ground is shivered & still, when the night wraps its scarf around my pale flesh, the world sounds a little more at peace. An unusual quiet washes over every little thing. Rogue leaves that had thus far refused to let go of their slumbered hosts don't seem to rattle when a breeze strays by. Small creatures of the wild burrow down into their place of rest and patiently await the coming of the dawn. Everything seems to find a reason to watch, to listen, daring not contribute even the slightest hint of life, as if only to be still... for a moment. It is a pleasant repose.
The moon is full tonight. It hangs plump & ponderous, ever keeping a watchful eye. As a Mother stealing one last glimpse at her resting brood. Daring not to wake the infants below, she lets linger upon our cheeks and foreheads her cherished adulation. She pours out onto our flesh her handfuls of silver.
It is in times such as these and moments such as this that you realize it is a good thing to be alive. Maybe the best of things.
Be still when the world around you rests. Be quiet when the moment has run out of words to say. Be as content as the moonlight that pools in your hands on a patient winter's eve.
There is wisdom to be found in such things.
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