It's too early to be up, and I'm about to go back to bed. The first dusting of what is predicted to be one of history's biggest snowstorms is on the ground. The morning has that muffled feeling, a thick quietness, that happens when the snow dampens all the usual noise.
What I notice this morning is the sound of windchimes somewhere nearby, and I realize that I have begun to associate windchimes with snowfall. Maybe they're always there but in ordinary weather ambient noise from the highway not far away competes with the windchimes so they don't make it to my awareness. In a snowstorm sound doesn't travel and it dies quickly, and the absence of background noise almost feels like a sound or a quality all its own. It's a hush. And, here in the dark of the morning, with the snow falling and promising to bury us and my warm bed calling me back, there is the quiet tinkle of windchimes.
Sn
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