Winter’s Sound of Silence

The lake is frozen in suspended stillness. Birds and snowflakes flutter to the ground without a sound. A red fox tip-toes down the frosty hill. Fir trees sway to the silent tune of a gentle wind.

I wish I could encase the hushed winter scene in the round glass of a snow globe to gaze upon when the lake transforms into a carnival of summer activity.

American author Florence Page Jaques must have understood when she wrote, “I love the deep silence of the midwinter woods. It is a stillness you can rest your whole weight against. This stillness is so profound you are sure it will hold and last.”

I’ve always craved the sound of silence.

Growing up, I was blessed with two spirited younger sisters. On inescapable car rides, I longed to stare out the window and daydream while they laughed uproariously, sang off-key and told grueling jokes. I’d wail, “Mom, make them stop!” (Happily, the situation is no different now, though my tolerance has improved.)

In exchange for reading stories and poetry all day, I spent most of my adult life in a small square room with a daily charge of more than 100 boisterous adolescents. Months after I retired from teaching, I still caught myself habitually “shushing” absolutely no one.

My own children were not particularly loud or rambunctious, but my daughter was born belting show tunes. Our home sounded like a never-ending rehearsal for the Tony Awards. Her more reserved younger brother often echoed a familiar refrain, “Mom, make her stop!”

I cherish those seasons past, but they do help me appreciate and enjoy the deep silence of the midwinter woods. Each season has something to teach us; winter’s lesson is in the beauty of its stillness.

Here are ten ways we can follow winter’s lead to bring more peace and quiet to our days ~

  1. Speak with a softer volume and tone of voice.
  2. Avoid complaining, gossiping, criticizing, babbling, arguing and opining.
  3. Turn off the television and other noise in your home.
  4. Ride in the car without music or news.
  5. Take a break from social media.
  6. Pray or meditate in silence.
  7. Engage in a quiet activity like a puzzle or game.
  8. Stop being so busy.
  9. Encourage children to enjoy quiet time.
  10. Observe and learn from winter’s sound of silence. §

Winter Morning Poem by Ogden Nash

Winter Morning Poem by Ogden Nash

Winter is the king of showmen,
Turning tree stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over lakes.
Smooth and clean and frosty white,
The world looks good enough to bite.
That’s the season to be young,
Catching snowflakes on your tongue!
Snow is snowy when it’s snowing.
I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.

About the Poet ~ Frederic Ogden Nash was one of America’s most successful poets of the twentieth century. He became well-known through his work at The New Yorker and as host of a radio quiz show called Information Please.

Nash was famous for his light-hearted verse, unconventional rhymes, puns and humor. He died in 1971 at the age of 68. The US Postal Service issued a stamp featuring Nash on the centennial of his birth in 2002.

About this Poem ~ Winter Morning Poem is about the simple joy of snow. Nash uses an end rhyme scheme that makes the poem fun to read aloud. Other poetic devices in this little poem include alliteration, sensory language and a touch of irony.

While acknowledging snow can be a mess, Nash helps us regain our childlike wonder of waking up to a winter snow. Maybe this poem can remind us not to let our grown-up practicality keep us from seeing the innocent beauty in the world.

I must admit I enjoy poetry that isn’t heavy and dark or loaded with obscure vocabulary and symbolism. I hope you agree this poem is perfect for celebrating nature on a cold January day. Though it’s slushy when it’s going, don’t you love the snowy snow when it’s snowing? §

Answering Your Call to Create

On a cold January day, I trudged into our patch of woods holding a hand saw. At this time of year, I could trace the delicate shape of the saplings rising from the ground. I was looking for one about twelve feet tall with an inch-round trunk and several pretty limbs branching out from its center.

When I found it, I cut it down and dragged it through the woods to our house, through the front door and into our home. The tree was taller than it seemed outdoors, so I cut off another foot and firmly planted it behind our bed frame.

I spent the afternoon making little origami birds to hang from the branches, while my husband, who is almost always amused by my quirky ideas, safely secured the tree to the wall.

I realize my natural, minimalist aesthetic isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. When asked her opinion, my daughter said it reminded her of the Blair Witch Project, demonstrating that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. In my mind, I’d brought the whimsy of nature indoors. I felt a surge of accomplishment, joy and creativity.

In his book The Courage to Create, Rollo May wrote, “We express our being by creating. Creativity is a necessary sequel to being.”

We were created to create.

Our desire for creativity is seen in the popularity of television programs featuring ordinary people being creative. Watching other people bake cakes, plant gardens, and build tree houses may make good television, but it doesn’t garner the same positive benefits as doing it ourselves.

So what stops us from exploring our creativity? Here are my top excuses and what I tell myself in response.

  1. I don’t know how. You learn by doing. You’ll figure it out.
  2. I’m not good at it. You create for your own enjoyment. If it turns out great, that’s just a bonus.
  3. I’m uninspired. Go outside. Nature holds all the inspiration you’ll ever need. 
  4. I’m lazy. Girl, get up and carpe the heck out of that diem. 

Get rid of your excuses. Even if you haven’t made anything since that diorama for your seventh grade literature class, you are creative.

Boldly answer your call to create.

Paint. Dance. Weave. Sing. Bake. Carve. Invent. Cook. Design. Sculpt. Fix. Plant. Decorate. Sew. Draw. Write. Act. Quilt. Build.

Research shows being creative can improve happiness, stress, confidence, focus, problem-solving, authenticity, anxiety, self-expression, sense of freedom, resilience, open-mindedness, risk-taking, decision-making, and mental clarity.

Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, wrote this beautiful and motivating quote, “The creator made us creative. Our creativity is our gift from God. Our use of it is our gift to God. Accepting this bargain is the beginning of true acceptance.” §

The Lady & the Bird

The sun had just risen on a cold, crystal clear morning. My mates and I stopped for breakfast at one of our favorite spots serving a smorgasbord of thistle, suet, mealworms, peanut butter and, my personal favorite, black oil sunflower seeds.

After a posh breakfast, I was ready to warm up in the sunshine. I made a flourished circle around the feeders. Good day, chaps!

I spread my bright red wings and felt the wind at my back. What a brilliant morning! Not a cloud in the… WHAM! I hit the glass door hard. Lying on the ground, I saw my impeccably groomed feathers slowly flutter to the ground around me.

Bullocks. So this is how it ends. Bloody windows. Goodbye mates. Goodbye blue sky. Goodbye…wait a minute. I’m still alive! 

I tried to move but couldn’t. My heart was beating fast. I couldn’t catch my breath, and I was freezing. My thoughts turned to the red-shouldered hawk we’d seen hanging around lately. And just yesterday, there were two red foxes in this very yard. I was a sitting duck, so to speak.

The lady came out of the house wrapped in a blanket. “Oh no,” she said. “You poor thing.” She knelt down to get a good look at me. I slowly blinked my eyes to let her know I wasn’t completely snookered just yet. She hurried back inside and watched me through the blasted window.

Suddenly, I felt myself rising into the air. Blimey! What’s happening here? This is highly unusual. I’m going up to heaven. Yep, that’s what’s happening. Goodbye beautiful world!

The next thing I knew I was lying on a soft blanket in a box inside a warm house. I couldn’t have fought it if I wanted to. The lady sat next to me on the floor. “You’re going to be fine. Just warm up and rest,” she said.

I heard her on the phone with her husband, the nice bloke who keeps our feeders filled. “But it’s really cold out,” she said emphatically. “Yes, it would be very silly to bring him in the house,” she said in agreement.

For the next hour or so she stayed with me. It was an odd scene. Me, a wild cardinal, in the kitchen of a woman who chatted as if she’d invited me over for tea. After a proper nap, I was starting to feel like my old self. My breathing returned to normal, and I could wiggle my feet. Looking directly in the lady’s eyes, I cocked my head in my trademark adorable manner.

“Well, look at you!” she said. “You sure are handsome,” commenting on my impressive scarlet crest, ink black markings and mesmerizing eyes. I puffed out my formidable chest and moved my wings a bit.

She gently lifted me, box and all, and set me outside on the porch. “Well Sir, let’s see if you’re ready to fly,” she said. I gently tested my wings.

I was gobsmacked! They work! My wings work! I’m going to live! Well, this day wasn’t  complete rubbish after all. 

I settled back on the soft blanket for a few seconds and looked at the lady.

Cheers, my lady! I’ll be seeing you.

With a tear in her eye, she said goodbye. I flew out of the box and showed off a bit by doing a fancy loop. I perched on the porch railing and looked at her. If I’d had a hat, I would have tipped it.

With a wink and a nod, I asked a cheeky favor. Please don’t clean your windows quite so well. §