“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


early on a february morning

there is a lot of quiet outside,
snow falling through the night,
no one on the road.  

the snow woke me at midnight, the brightness beyond the windows saying come see; it kept waking me through the night, until i last gave up, cried uncle, settled myself on this couch to watch the silence fall from the sky.  that sky is white and if i hold my head a certain way, the double paned glass doors reflect a neighbor's backyard lights perfectly and hang them as fairy lights on the tips of tiny hackberry limbs overhanging the creek.  there is a broken limb caught in the wisteria vine, not seen till now, a black silhouette against that sky, that white sky going pink.  i nestled on the couch and felt comforted, and thought of last year's february, nights spent on the couch with maggie the cat as she moved closer to her ending, and i remembered the february mornings of two years ago, early morning awakenings then also bringing me to this couch to keep an eye on mary's house, she too nearing her ending.  so perhaps i blame the snow when it is in truth the memories of februaries past that push me out of bed and onto this couch, surrounded by quiet and the heater's warmth, surrounded by those loved, but gone. 

two cars have passed by as i typed, intrepid souls the first out on this day.  the news says there is ice 'neath the snow and accidents here and there across the area.  i will wait a while before venturing forth; there is another cat waiting for me at work; she has food and water, but she doesn't have me, and christmas still hangs from the emma tree.  there is much to do if i will but do it.

but now? 
just the quiet.
just the snow.
just the morning.



  1. There is comfort to be found in those quiet moments. I often find myself on my couch in the early hours of the morning reflecting on the past.

  2. amazing isn't it ? and in that silence the memories enter along with the comfort you write so tenderly about.

  3. those are my favorite things about snow, the hush that settles over the world when it falls gently and quietly with no wind, and those times in the night when it wakes you like moonlight, because your mind knows that there is something going on out there. and that photo? i adore it.

  4. Beautiful. Your blog posts are always something to savor.

    I'm a recent newcomer to the phenomenon that is snow, but the thing I like best (maybe the only thing at all) is the falling of it. It really is amazing how soothing and quiet it is - how it beckons reflection.

  5. the brightness of the fallen snow....
    no matter what we do, it lights up our room like a football stadium.
    just like so many things in life. we are used to it.

    and the couch isn't such a bad place to be. it calls my name often when my body doesn't wasn't cooperate and the idea of keeping my man from sleeping well eats at me....

    the sun is shining. and it will be 22 today. wheeeee !

  6. i love the feel of snow in the night, of waking up to the of-so-quiet. you describe it so well. there simply is nothing like it. enjoy!

  7. Enjoy the silence the snow brings, be warm, be safe, and I hope you can make it ok to cuddle with kittie. Isn't it interesting how a month or something else will trigger a memory? For now there is the silence, the white, the cold; but very soon the flowers will rise from the ground, the sun will shine, and we will dance.

  8. I hope you enjoy the quitness and beauty of a snow day which is rare where you live isn't it?

  9. but she doesn't have me

    Ah... that's the thing that matters, isn't it?

  10. That kind of quiet is unlike any other kind, isn't it? I didn't get the chance to experience it this year, and I am sad about that. They promised lot's of snow due to el nina, but it never came. So I am grateful to feel that quiet through you, as I read your thoughts.


come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .