There is a profound tranquility here at my family home as winter has settled in. There is plenty of fresh snow that softens the sounds of the world that lays just outside the yard. Traffic passing by has a muted resonance and even the belling of the occasional raven seems diminshed by the weight of snow that burdens the trees surrounding the house.
I have to walk through the property as soon as the weather clears a bit. Someone has been cutting trees and leaving a terrible mess in the woodlot that extends eastward towards the mountains. But for now I am enjoying the warmth of a fire burning in the stove and the smell of fresh bread baking in the kitchen.
I have work to do but now my pace has slowed as I adapt to the old rhythms.
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