Winter days are quiet at my house. Less fuss and hurry, less obligations. We hole up with hot tea and movies, good books and deeper conversation. The whole world seems to slow in the cold. This year, I welcome the quiet with more relief than usual. I am tired of the constant anger, breaking news! and bleak outlook. If I stay on social media or watch any news, I might get sucked into the negative. Instead, I relish the soundless winter mornings (sans the sanctimonious talking heads).
The loveliness of quiet winter days are here. Quiet days are writing days.
Earlier this morning, I took the dogs out the back door, and they assaulted the quiet winter morning with excited yelps of joy. As they ran up the hill, two deer were startled enough to move on. With their territory secure, both dogs ran through the leaves looking for unsuspecting squirrels and the occasional turtle or rabbit to chase, but out back there were no takers. Even the bird feeders were relatively quiet. Our two dogs gleefully searched for a few minutes, but eventually settled into walk-sniffing with their snouts on the ground. In my own rush to get outside, I didn’t wear a jacket, so I whistled to them when I started shivering and headed back indoors to sit down with a hot drink.
Outside the front window, there was a scattered herd of deer snuffling through the leaves and foliage looking for green shoots, nuts, and lichen. Amongst the larger deer, there were two tiny deer following after their mother.
It made me emotional somehow to watch them wondering over the rise and down the hill in the quiet.
Not to be outdone by the tranquility, my dogs began to whine and yip when they discovered the deer just outside the window, and out of their reach. They look from me to the yard trying to tell me that there are intruders afoot. But, I assured them that all was well and stood there for a while watching.
Everything below our patch of green at the top of the hill was a sea of brown leaves and white tailed deer walking among the trees. Above were shards of blue sky and white clouds between the branches of the oak trees.
The world looks better from here. What a wonderful world, I thought as I regarded them from my perch.
Thank you God for this moment. As I considered the winter scene below, it reminded me how much we have to be thankful for.
I am deeply grateful to live in America. In spite of every attempt this past year to paint our country as racist, chaotic, divided, and coming apart, I choose to see what I see right now, what is really here. It is undeniable. God made an incredible world full of wonder and a loveliness that makes me emotional just looking at it. Beyond the rhetoric, we are good people.
In fact, overall, people are generally decent too. Most even want to do the right thing. So, it has never been more clear to me how important it is to share the good parts. The good starts with what God made.
Genesis 1:1-3″In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters. And God said, “Let there be light, and there was light.”
My response to God’s creation is to sing *”All creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice and with us sing! Alleluia, Alleluia!”
It is with great admiration for creation that I spend winter afternoons warm and writing in a knit sweater. Effortless hours of silvery silence pass whilst I sing my song in print.
Barefoot and writing about winter’s splendor,
You might also enjoy: Winter’s Joy’s List
Or: In the New Year, remember to turn on the light. Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.- Dumbledore