winter arrived late. all is quiet except for the wind. even my brain is peaceful, which usually means the calm before the storm. i glanced out the window & there was kathy walking trixie, who was playfully jumping back & forth with sticks. the glory of the snow & ice flying, creating an encrusted jewel to behold in a moment of peace.
these moments continue to save me.
The Snow Man
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
` wallace stevens