Halfway through.

What are you noticing?

Thursday, December 15, 2022—Winter Poems Series—#4

A quiet hello today,

How are you at this mid-point of December? Are you finding moments to breathe? To notice? To write? To do whatever brings you a smile, or some solace? I hope so.

Here, today began with a tiny bit of snow falling from a silent, pearl sky. The usual morning traffic sounds were dim and squishy.

It snowed just long enough to cover streets and sidewalks and make trees look sugared. Within a few hours the snow converted to sleet and then to rain, the pearl sky sliding to slaty gray—tree branches losing their confectionary glitter.

The quiet prevailed, though. As if trees and streams and monochrome meadows were sleeping. Which made me think of today’s poem.

Snow on trees and grass, under a bright blue sky from two years ago. Obviously this isn’t a photo of the tiny snow and now pounding rain from today. I’m just not hearty enough to stand in icy rain to try to capture melting snow while keeping my tiny phone camera dry.

Today’s poem is “Winter Trees” by William Carlos Williams.

All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.

With quiet appreciation and a dusting of solace,

Tracie