Silence

My last peep has flown away back to the city. The others had left earlier, back to life at 34, a small cabin in New Hampshire and the last two weeks of an adventure in the midwest.

And there is silence here.

As I sit here gazing at the fire with the two remaining dogs snuggled in beside me on the couch, there is quiet in the house. Quiet here echoing the quiet of the snowy outside where blankets of snow muffle the sound of traffic and noises of the neighborhood.

Life seems to have stopped after the whirlwind activity of the last month. The month before Christmas is packed with a frenzy of baking. Getting out recipes penned in my mom's handwriting, and baking those traditional things that bring back memories of times and people. Plans for parties, decorating the tree and the dining room, setting lights in the windows to welcome back those who have been away, arranging my cheerful snowmen all around the kitchen to keep me company while cooking, shopping for stockings and presents, and rearranging bedrooms for homecoming family.

I do not mind the silence now. Christmas is over and now is the time for serenity and reflection and anticipation about the year ahead.

There are still reminders of a wonderful month lingering here. I will leave the tree up a bit longer and the table will remain set with the Wedgwood and holiday goblets. And I will continue to light the myriad of candles around the house each night, to enjoy their flickering light and comforting presence.

January is a stretch of peace. I do not go out much forced by the weather and choice to stay put in this warm abode. Organizational and cleaning projects will command some time and energy though.

And as I sit here enjoying the fire and looking at over 200 pictures appearing on my new digital photo frame, I once again learn the lesson of old photographs.

Cherish the day.

They are passing on quickly.