This morning I woke early, it was so quiet, and the light coming from outside seemed so different. The light at this time of the morning in November comes from street lights, alley lights, my decorative lights that go along the sidewalk from the house to the garage. The sun is not up, not even as a type. The silence of the early morning seemed different and the lights that I could see out the window was more diffuse. I found myself walking out to see, to notice more of what I was feeling. As I looked out into the backyard, there it was, a small blanket of snow. I like snow, I live in a northern climate, if it is going to be cold, let there be snow. Snow is such an insulator - it makes for such stillness. No two snowflakes are alike, and these look like they were forged in windy, cold cold. They are not big and fluffy, but small almost bead like snow is piled less than an inch in spots on my patio, and there are dark patches in the yard. And it is quiet, a different vibration, and light bounces around and against and with the snow, casting a new pattern of light. Each snowflake a unique part of the universe, and here I am in the darkness of early morning noticing the light!
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