On a warm December morning filled with birdsong and loud blue sky, I find myself quiet. Standing in my pajamas and listening to a world that always carries on, no matter how many times we think it will stop.

Each time I go in the door, or out, these old harness jingle bells I’ve tied around a wreath ring their pretty song, reminding me that silence is the mirror of stillness. And life is always moving.

I wish for snow to hide the mess of leaves and grey. I wish for sparkling trees and crisp fresh air. I wish to be right where I am and everywhere else all at once.

There’s no wind today, and yesterday five robins set down in my garden to forage in the litter of berries and seed.

My words hide in corners too far away, and I look up as a crow, my crow, flies by.

We say good morning without sound.

The day begins.




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