The depths of December

The cold penetrates everything at this time of the year, its wet fingers finding pathways for the wind to enter. The trees drip, the overfull gutter dripping a monotonous tattoo. Everything makes that disturbing squelchy noise, like dropping the bag of turkey organs into the sink when you’re getting ready to stuff it.

And all through it is the silence of the air. The birds are hiding, waiting for a break in the drizzle to dash out and gorge themselves at the feeder.

The outdoor cats have all slunk off to their respective homes, to dry out and plot their next depredation. The indoor cats burrow deeper into the blankets and dream of mice.

And I sit here, with an extra shirt to ward off the chill, searching through my photos to find the perfect one, to wish everyone a blessed Solstice, when the Sun will return, the Earth will turn again, and Nature will arise, shaking off its white and mossy robes of winter slumber to welcome Spring again with open arms.

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