Once Winter comes I love the silence that a soft downy snowstorm brings. The way you can stand on the front porch at midnight when the street lights make everything sparkle and you hear nothing. I'll bet if you could gather up the blanket of snow that warms up the neighborhood and wring it out you could hear all of the sounds that have been absorbed. It is a different kind of comforting.
I need them both. I need to expect something different here and there. I need the sound sometimes and the silence other times. And in my life right now I am finding fulfillment in both extremes.
I am a paradox that smiles as I sit on this branch and thrum, thrum, thrum. Winter will come soon enough.