STILLNESS

"May you grow still enough to hear the small noises earth makes in preparing for the long sleep of winter,
so that you yourself may grow calm and grounded deep within.
May you grow still enough to hear the trickling of water seeping into the ground,
so that your soul may be softened and healed, and guided in its flow.
May you grow still enough to hear the splintering of starlight in the winter sky and roar at earth's fiery core.
May you grow still enough to hear the stir of a single snowflake in the air,
so that your inner silence may turn into hushed expectation"
--- David Steindl-Rast Couldn't sleep this morning. Perhaps the moonlight shimmering through my window enticed me up to the loft where I could enjoy the patterns coming through the skylight.

Early light touches winter barren branches and lightly frosted roofs - gentle puffs of steam rise from chimneys and vents. The world is waking up. Wisps of fog linger in low branches draped like a scarf across outstretched arms.

Crunching my way out through the frosted grass and leaves, I stir up dozens of small birds gathering grass seeds. The water is still dripping in the birdbath --- in spite of the cold it is attracting chickadees for a quick drink or dip. The cold temperatures bring more birds to the clearing and to the feeders. When I move slowly, the birds seem nearly tame.

Another light dusting of snow midmorning and clouds play overhead the rest of the day.