The Quiet of the Snow

I like the quiet of the snow.

The giant white muffler on the engines of life

Falling gently

Stealthily

Making dawn clean and white

I like the slow crackle of fire

Then a shock against the flight

Logs shifting

Embers glowing

Making the room grow with delight

I like the laughter of children

Clothed in bundles beyond site

Playing gaily

Unconscientiously

Squealing as they put up a fight

There’s music in the silence

Often not listened to in the grind of daily life

Playing silently

Slowly

Only to be heard when the day is white

Ms. Bloggy Pants

After more than a year of silence, I have resurrected this blog.  Not for any strokes of great brilliance and certainly not for any self-aggrandizement.  My plan was to quietly wile away with my opinions, vague literary references and thoughts of the day.

Life is getting tough again and I need to vent.

And my girls are sick of me arguing my odd ideas at the dinner table not knowing even a third of my references.

Peter Frampton?  Is he on Glee?

Wittgenstein?  A museum in NYC?

Psycho? Are you talking about your family again, Mom?

The references are endless yet their tolerance limited.

So here I go again. 

Thanks for outing me, Dr. C.

And the picture might as well be in Hutchinson, Mr. C.