Sound

January 29, 2018

Twenty six degrees this morning.  I’m sure a day will come when I hardly notice the temperature, but it is still a little stunning. With the rain and warm weather yesterday (all the way up to 60!) the snow has virtually all melted, but the wet grass has frozen overnight.  Charlie’s little feet make a soft crunching noise, and his breath comes in little huffs as he sniffs the ground.  I imagine he is analyzing who’s been here, and he’s certainly looking for the perfect spot.  There are soft crow calls in the distance, and in the far distance, a dog barks.  As I adjust to the quiet, I think I can hear a very far off road noise, but it could be wind. The quiet is as stunning as the views.  Inside the house the heater is fairly noisy, but when it goes off there is just silence.

Joe, with his tinnitus, would not have enjoyed the quiet.

It was cloudy yesterday, but the grey morning light was as beautiful in its own way as the brilliant dawn spectrum. Nearest the house the first line of trees are distinct, black against the grey. Each of the five ridges stretching out toward the horizon is a little paler grey, with the final ridge lighter than the dark grey sky above it.

We took a ride to a town about 45 minutes away, Norwich, just to see some country.  Rolling hills, farmhouses and barns in various states of habitability, from pristine to falling down – every turn in the road brings a life to wonder about.  The streams are black under the grey sky, the ponds frozen white. At one point, we follow two horse drawn buggies on the road.  There are quite a few Mennonite farms around here.  They bring wonderful produce to the farmer’s market, the women in their traditional clothes and bonnets. The buggy drivers pull to the side of the road to let us pass as they slow to climb a hill.  This is not 101.

Last night, as Charlie and I went out for his last pee, there was a huge halo around the nearly full moon. Ice crystals, I suppose. When I woke at 4:20 this morning I walked into the living room for the view to the west, and there was the moon again, large and orange, sitting right on the ridge, the trees black against it.  I took a picture, knowing it wouldn’t show what I saw, but unable to resist.  Sure enough, the photo is a black field with a bright disk in the center.

This morning we started an aqua exercise class at the gym.  The teacher is excellent, and we got a warm welcome from our classmates.  And speaking of warm, the best part of the morning was the sauna.  I was still warm through an hour later. There are classes four mornings a week at 9:15, perfect for us. We are settling in, establishing routines, meeting neighbors. And of course, missing all of you.