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.
Aaaahhhh, sleeping in in a Sunday. Traditionally because of some amazing Saturday night but apparently I was just fatigued from the week. 10am looks a lot different than 7:30am and with much more action. The village has awoken.
A squirrel has temporarily joined me on the porch with what looks like a croissant that used to be IN my house. He is seeking refuge from the gas powered snow blower the retiree is using… doing laps on the driveway and part of the road it seems. I enjoy a good quiet shovelling but that machine sounds like a wood chipper! It is still lightly snowing, very fluffy flakes. You can almost make out the different shapes of each one. So gentle, if you closed your eyes you wouldn’t know it was snowing. A sharp contrast to the gasoline fed combination walker/thrower that just went by. I must get up earlier. The sun is showing itself despite the snow clouds, the circle t steeple is bright silver. I feel like I have missed out on part of the day without having the previous night to flaunt.
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.
The density has come back to the neighbourhood with the ice and snow frozen to all the tree branches the sound of shoveling in the distance while birds sing their songs all around me. One bird even joined me in the porch. As the sun comes up it highlights the circle t steeple and the tops of the oldest trees. Smoke is seen bellowing out of a chimney from a snow covered rooftop just like a Christmas card. There isn’t any wind today, the flag is still, almost frozen in place. It IS frozen in place. A car drives slowly by crunching the snow and ice under it’s weight. Where do the birds land in the trees? They must not mind the snow on their feet. In fact they seem to knock a little snow off the branches every time they land. If you notice a branch with perfect snow frozen to it then a section out of place and missing snow… that was a bird. Branch out and leave your mark.