Winter and silence in Anchorage: only when I worked out on the Aleutian Island chain, have I experienced a quiet so pronounced. The cold air absorbs the constant clamor of humanity. The noise is muted; the crisp edges smoothed into a dull whoosh that reverberates off the foothills to the east and one is reminded of the roar of bees swarming in the branches of trees. No, this is not silence, but something else entirely, yet I perceive it to be silence.

The Pace of Winter

The first snow fell, the temperature dropped to the teens, and has not risen above it since.  We have the house better settled in this season.  The heat trace is on the roof.  A ladder is nearby to help us get on the roof to shovel snow.  The new snow blower is in place and ready to handle a heavy snow.  The boiler was checked and serviced.  We have done all we do to prepare.  The cupboards could be more full, but we have enough to see us through a short emergency.  

No Quiet Spot Left to Sooth

Everywhere, every day, nothing but anger, hatred, fear, resentment.  No one can find any happiness.  It is dreary.  How does God expect anyone to find solace in the midst of all of this sadness unless one leaves the company of humankind to hide.  I do not know.

I have just seen too much.

I Want to Dance... Destination Unknown...

This stirs my imagination.  I feel young again.  Frankly, I listen to this, and feel compelled to twirl around my living room, jumping on an off the couch and the love seat as if I were eight years old watching "Get Smart" on my grandmothers black and white TV screen.

What makes certain music so powerful?  Are the Buddhist right?  Does the nervous system emit some chord that seeks harmony with other vibrations in the universe.  I do not know, but I want to dance.  I want to run until I am exhausted, until...  What?  To what point am I propelled?  To what destination am I drawn, thrust, pushed, pulled, coerced?

I am puzzled, but I want to dance.