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musings

Snowfall

I walked through the snow tonight, two, nearly three, miles, basking in the gentle eddies of the fading storm, the soft quiet of a winter wonderland spread before me like a bounteous gift. I enjoyed seeing the bowing of the electric and television cables, weighed down and leaning into the evergreens, having conversations with one another, brought closer by the magic of big flakes and wind.

I loved the swish of my coat and the crunch of my boots as I slowly made my up hills and slid down them. The thrushing noise of shovels turned my ears as did the yelps and shouts of families unearthing driveways and walkways and paths, and the trilling of air passing through and over drift piles.

And o’er all that my eyes could see, this white cover of coziness, this crystalline blanket that somehow warmed the world.

There is a peacefulness, a stillness, that comes with the snow; a peacefulness that it places upon my soul. I hear my thoughts, slowly and most graciously, and I can center myself in a way that is impossible when the sun is bright, the streets crowded with noisome pedestrians, and the roadways clogged with gas clouds and too many cars. No, none of that happens when all has been humbled by nature.

And I, too, humbled with it.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

February 2014
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