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.
I have the best seat for this show.
It is dark. It is a low fog. Streetlamps and Christmas lights are the only source of light outside. The rain and warmer air is busy melting the snow that has stayed on the ground for a few days now. You get used to it and call it winter. You also assume that you probably won’t see grass again until March. During my childhood in Niagara, a green Christmas was rare and can’t remember one specifically. As an adult, I remember more green ones than white. It could go either way this year again. One of my closest neighbours is out on his front porch too. He has brought the dogs outside for their business while he relaxes and burns a cigarette. They are loyal dogs and easily pop back inside the house when he is finished his nicotine. The falling rain and snow melting are dripping on multi surfaces from a variety of heights . They make a wide range of noises and patterns creating a symphony of water drops. It is enough to put someone to sleep. Behind me is the constant low industrial hum of a laker moving through the lock of the canal. The birds have joined the celebration of music by adding their own chatter all around. It now sounds like an orchestra warming up. I have the best seat for this show.
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.
It seems a little darker but brighter this morning. Snowflakes are slowly falling to the ground. There is so little of them, you can follow their decent, you can even count them. The flakes remind me of the flying pattern of tiny summer bugs. A neighbour and her young dog have walked by stopping every 10 m. It seems she is training the dog to walk. The birdfeeder gang are quieter than usual this morning as if keeping the food to themselves. A slight wind in the winter makes the air colder but makes my thawed flag fly proudly. It must be difficult for a bird to land on a branch when it is moving. Darker grey clouds in the sky today is contrasted with brighter blue skies to the south. The wind increases and takes away my ability to breathe. That has always been a frustrating part of winter for me. The snow has stopped, the dark clouds a little brighter with a hint of red from the sun rising. What was dark can be bright again.