(FP’ed 3:09 AM EDT, Sunday. October 14, 2007. – promoted by exmearden)
The snow crunches underfoot, and it yields to a soft underlayment, glistening with mystery as the moon parlays its reflected sheen on the infinite sparkling frosty desert.
An aroma of universal home wafts through the swaying branches of pine, of spruce and of arborvitae. Pungent, yet gentle, it speaks to timelessness, of shelter, of contemplation. Those trees, in their conversations, tell the stories of the wind, of the light and shadow, and of all those who pass overhead and underneath the regal limbs.
This night, the deepening blueblack of the scrim reveals brilliant gems in their courses.
The moon conducts the symphony, and the celestial choir hums the chorus. Listen, ears pricked, and feel the song of songs. The trees sway in rhythm. Tapping bark tympanics applaud the performance. The earth turns in time with the music to follow the melody.
Peering through the ferny pines are the night watchers. Those with wings ruffle their rachis and tuck themselves into the tempo. Paws shuffle and legs dance with the harmonic pulsing. Fur rises and then settles in warm comforting envelopment of its bearer.
The lone observer encumbered by clothes to protect a vulnerable fur-less skin, gazes unseeing, but with listening ears, hearing feet, fingertips alive and perceiving the deep cold that doesn’t come from the air. Hands curled and thrust deep in flannel-lined pockets, face turned to the moon, lost in the music, the pattern, the all, time wasn’t, and here was everywhere and nowhere.
Far to go, having far come, here at last.
Here at last.
16 comments
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moves around too much!
Sometimes it is very hard to find …here.
such a serene peaceful moment…an oasis in the madness…thank you for the beautiful respite.
wherever here is…you are such an amazing writer, you really have a wonderful talent Aek.
Peace to you sister. Real Peace. Deep down inside Peace.
Author
You all said very nice things.
Here’s a parting laugh: Maureen Dowd
turned her column over tohad her column hijacked by Stephen Colbert – and he wrote a twofer – did Frank Rich’s column while he was at it.Enjoy – and thanks for everything.
all I want to xmas is some talent.
Thanks, aek.
is as much control as we will ever gain over so many things.
Brilliant work.
I know that winter forest nightlight so well, yet rarely take the time to marvel at memories of it.Thanks for that.
You remind us that what we discern initially as silence will be far far more if we listen.
I’d like a Gluehwein now but I can’t. I dare say there is a herby tea which tastes similar.
Outstanding.