Winter Song

In the dark hours of the night, when the world was still and sleeping, the snowflakes began to fall, adding to the whiteness that already blanketed the blueberry hills. It was not a muffled stillness that awoke me, but the sound of the wind, rushing and pushing through the bare branches of the trees, shaking and rattling them like the bare bones that remind us of the summers past life. The sounds that woke me were the groaning of the old house as the wind hurled itself against the walls, seeking an entrance to even this haven that was safe from its onslaught. Carefully pushing the covers aside and slipping into a robe, I went down the stairs, stepping cautiously in the half light of early morning. It was hard to see what was happening on the other side of the kitchen window because the wind had blown little clumps of snow up onto the glass. Only the dark, tossing branches of the big maple tree outside were visible, all else being indistinct in a grey-white shroud that blurred the lines of the world.

The family room was still warm from the previous nights fire. A new fire, another day, and the routine that would fill the weeks ahead had begun again. Another act in this grand play that is life. Quiet strains of classical music drifting around the room, weaving in and out with the sounds of the wind outside creating our own winter song.

It's early yet but the fan that sits atop the woodstove spins feverishly, a sure sign that the fire inside has been burning for a while already. Diesel and Max are laying on their little pad beside it, basking in the steady warmth that radiates off it, warming the room and keeping the winter cold at bay. While Diesel dozes, Max lays up against him, finding comfort in that touch, even as he gnaws on his chew toy. His teeth snap and pop on it. Maybe his vigor will help loosen up some of the baby teeth that refuse to let go even though his adult teeth are almost in place. I wonder if Diesel is pleased in his little doggy mind, that Max is there? Does his world feel complete because there is another dog in the house? Max teases him unmercifully, crashing and running over him, whirling and feinting at him, all in an effort to goad him into a typical dog play response. Sometimes all Diesels fears and anxieties disappear momentarily and he joins in the fray and I swear that he truly grins for the sheer joy of it all. Other times, he crumbles into a little brown heap of phobias and anguish, screaming and quivering. Anyone who thinks that animals can't suffer from mental illness have never met Diesel.

This will be a day for inside things, art projects, sewing, maybe a tv movie or a video. The snow that still blows and dances outside precludes the trip to town that I'd contemplated last night. The last two packets of flower bulbs that are laying on the steps inside the barn will not get planted after all and Ambra and Sierra will snooze in their stalls. And the wind will howl and the fire flicker and pop, and we will be thankful for all that we have.