It is very quiet this morning. Single noises can be heard now. A motorcycle on the highway in the distance accelerates. A squeaky storm door opens slightly and closes, sounded like a cat. A gentle breeze making the metal clang on a wind decoration chimes in. Footsteps in the crunchy snow can be heard in a driveway getting louder…it is my shorts wearing neighbour putting out his weekly receptacles.
They question whether or not a tree would make a sound if felled in a forest and no one is around. You can be standing in front of that tree and only if you are receptive to the sounds around you would you hear it. Listen to what the Earth is telling you.
On my porch and very quiet. Just the highway noise but the birds are quiet. Now that I have written that, they are very loud and excited.
I can see the line of clouds over Port and Welland… just blue skies here. The wind is chilly when it passes through. They are getting lake effect snow, we are getting magic snow. Little tiny flakes are falling slowly but so few of them you can count them. Where do they come from if not a cloud?
Christmas lights have appeared on various homes on my street now… and I am sitting on my porch without a jacket. All different styles of displays, the vintage white lights, the subtle, and the modern display including a blow up Santa. Santa looks great when the air is on but during the day he just looks like another old man the morning after a bender. More of the opposite feel than what the Christmas decoration magic is trying to capture. I have yet to put my garland and lights up and today seems like a warm enough day to get that started.
A seagull flies by with it’s usual call, as if by an ocean or lake…or McDonalds. Alas it is the canal and lake boats behind my home that attracts them. The rest of the birds have started their conversations… talking over each as if their story is more important than the others. Maybe it is just a collective joy… best Christmas display ever.
This is the earliest I have been out on my porch so far since writing. I see flurries falling in one streetlight but not the other. Very localized system. The hum of the highway is predominant this morning, not a sound from a bird anywhere. The air is still but still a city smell to it. A crash of late melting ice falls to the side of the porch. The couch is alone no more on the boulevard today… but it shall join it’s friends in the truck. It would have made a great penalty box for street hockey.
A Toronto Star gets hand delivered to the retired couple next door…seems like a dying trade to hold a tangible newspaper . But some of us hang on to these habits like comfort food. A neighbour puts on his good slippers, visits his garage and adds to his collection of recycling and garbage on the curb as if THIS was the last one. There will be another truck, I can smell it.