This morning in the dark wee hours I awakened with a start. My thoughts flew back in time on the wings of memory . . . or more like the wings of sensation.
I was a kid again waking up under a half-dozen thick blankets in the small room I shared with my older sister, with a warm body snuggled next to mine--that of the family cat. A sound had awakened me, but not really a sound, something about an absence of sound--as if the house was muffled. And I knew immediately, deep in my bones, that it had snowed.
I lay there in bed last night, sensations and emotions all tangled up in my 52-year-old body. I felt a child again, but knew that was impossible as I was comfy-cozy next to my husband of twenty-five years. Listening to his gentle snores I drifted back to sleep.
When hubby’s alarm clock went off he got up and drew back the curtains from the window. “Bethie, look,” he exclaimed, “it snowed!” Hush, my sweet, hush. My world is sleeping, wrapped in a blanket.
Comments (2)
yes, i knew in my heart also before i looked outside that it had snowed, you can almost always tell, it's so quiet.......
Cool! (To use a term from a few years later). I miss that.