The First Day of Winter

I was out in the backyard this morning around 6:30 to let the girls out, and remembered that it was Winter Solstice. I took a moment to stand still, and thought about winter as I used to remember it. Winter meant lots of indoor days, Mom trying to think up fifty more things for us kids to do before the end of the day because we were bored, burning my tongue on my hot chocolate, sledding on the hill behind the hospital, bare trees, and that wonderful sound of silence when you woke up in the morning after a night of snowfall, then rushing downstairs and listening to the radio to find out if there was going to be a snow day. I also remember the Winter sky, before a storm. It was cold, steely grey, the sun seemed to be struggling to put out light through the clouds. Today, I saw that Winter sky again. Here. It was a grey day, but I loved it. I can imagine waking up tomorrow morning to that silent sound again, and opening my curtain to peek out and see it. That white landscape. That blanket hugging the earth, keeping it asleep for a few more months. I long to see the earth sleep again, and then watch as it slowly wakes up to Spring. For now, I will hold on to my memories, and relish the few snatches of what I remember when I can.