Morning Snow

Angelic transformation. Snow on all black branches piled high. Slowly steadily tiny flakes fall in a continuous mist-like freefall. No cars on the road at 8:15. Morning blanketed quiet – streetlights show the falling snow.
No vision in the distance – cloud is touching the tops of the buildings. This is winter. Christmas eve.
Morning tea – orange dulce.
A snow shovel scrapes the sidewalk below. The little white walking man sign is like a snowman. The red don’t walk hand is like a fire. Once in a while a black bird flies through the snow, a bus goes by or stops, a person calls out to another. I hear my ears ringing in this exquisite quiet.
The street lights just went off. It is officially morning in the city now. A branch too heavy with snow bends just a little to spill large accumulations onto the street.
Deepening snow.
Inside the fire in the gas fireplace burns fuel from ancient lifetimes. The turtle climbs to his platform to bask in artificial light. Plants and stairways are decorated with tiny xmas lights. A candle that was burning on my table has secretly burned out when I wasn’t looking. I pour a bit of milk into my second cup of tea.
In front of me – white at the window.
Behind me – white at the window.
Even downtown in the built-up human-created world Nature now dominates. She whispers,”I am earth, I am your mother. I love and respect you. See now my power over you and your fancies.”
A white seagull swoops through the snow in an arc. Another large lump of snow falls off a heavy branch. A truck, a car, an amber light, red light, green light, snow man, fire hand.
I am enfolded in this enormous being.
A crow flies left to right then returns again. A gull lands on the top of the street light. Great sheets of snow fall from two branches at once, and I hear distant voices.
This morning is more quiet than any dream.
All the birds have awakened from somewhere, fly back and forth, stay perched on snow-covered wires above the trolley lines. A small black flock flies by, I see them through the upper window. Are they all looking for food, or just enjoying the human quiet, the lack of machine noise?
I sit closer to the window, and look down onto the street below. 8 people are standing under the awning across the street, holding coffee cups, shuffling from foot to foot to keep warm. The lights are on at the methadone clinic behind them. A police car stops at the light. Someone in the clinic has a santa hat on. Some of the folks have crossed the street and gone home -wherever home is and I do hope it is a home.
The big red and white Eagle West condo-building crane has become visible. The clouds must have lifted. More cars on the road, more people walking from place to place. The gull on the street light. The crow on the wire. The snow. The endless blessings quietly patiently and continuously drift down now from above. A woman does up the jacket of her friend in front of the clinic. I sit closer to the window, stop writing, and gaze at the snow.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Grégoire says:

    This is a cool blog. That’s all I wanted to say.

    Now it’s time for me to shovel the two feet of snow that has accumulated on my roof. I’m a bit further inland than you are. Ain’t it grand?

  2. i *love* how nature every so often shows us up.
    And I’ll never use my fireplace again without a moment’s recognition that the fuel is, indeed, ancient.

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