Sunday, November 22, 2009

Four O'Clock on a Saturday

It gets dark so early now. Four in the afternoon and the light had all but disappeared. We braved the chilly air to walk down to the stream by the grade school near our house. A dog barked in the distance. A flock of crows took to raucous flight. Long fingers of bare branches reached up into the twilight. A much different scene than today where the wet pavement is as blue as the sky.

This is the time of year when we will search for pockets of light and warmth throughout the long evenings. And pockets of time in which to relish the comforts we seek. Such a busy time as holidays, school functions, family obligations and other demands all converge to make this a season of hustle and bustle. When the storm is over and we are looking at January 1, 2010, we will stop and shake our heads free of the clamour of the past year, breathing deep the crisp air promised by a new year.

Until then I will continue to raise my face occasionally to the bare branches and focus for a moment on the quiet of a late winter afternoon.


katielizabeth said...

A little early winter poetry. Ain't it the truth.

Dana said...

I've always found beauty in the bare branches of winter, showing their tracery against the sky -