The Sound Of Silence

With a day off to celebrate Presidents, I decided today's pace would be slow, a day to just appreciate life and submit to whatever new weather system decided to show up. It was a lovely day, allowing my body and mind to guide me to good things, lingering over the newspaper, a nice long workout and indulgent warm shower, and then just a nice coffee shop experience while watching yet another batch of cold snow start to fall. It was interesting watching the very sunny morning turn overcast while the city scrambled to figure out how bad it would be.

I, for one, don’t care how little or big this next snow is. I have surrendered and it feels great. We roll with what we’re dealt and come with a good attitude. I think part of this is having a great deal of honesty back in my life and I have slept the greatest sleep this weekend that I've had in years. Part of it is the quiet that comes with a white blanket of snow covering everything and living on top of a hill that no mailman delivered to, no garbage truck could access for nearly a week. The white stuff breeds silence in a city that likes to scream. And so, putting a mind to rest that normally runs too many hours a day feels wonderfully restful. Let’s just get back to simplicity.

With that, let’s remember our Keats:

23.  To One who has been Long in City Pent
By John Keats

To one who has been long in city pent
'Tis very sweet to look into the fair
And open face of heaven, -to breathe a prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair
And gentle tale of love and languishment?
Returning home at evening, with an ear
Catching the notes of Philomel, -an eye
Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He mourns that day so soon has glided by,
E'en like the passage of an angel's tear
That falls through the clear ether silently.