It’s too loud. The cacophony has risen to such a level that I struggle to hear.
There’s just too much.
Snow falls, unwelcome on this last day of February, but with it comes a whisper. And a beckoning.
I step outside with the Yorkie and, as white feathers fall around me, a blanket of silence envelopes. Barefoot, I put my foot forward and touch a bit of crunchy ice with my toe. Funny. That sound isn’t one of assault, but comfort.
We go back inside and I mix another coffee elixir to take back to bed. As the furnace hums, and I watch the white outside my window, I hear clearer than I have for a while.
What needs to, falls away.
Solitude and silence are my sweet companions.