Monday, January 10, 2011
with a bow to Robert Frost..This morning silent snow falling as I walked up the hill from the barn. I stopped and looked out on the grayscale landscape, white hills punctuated by the various dark and darker shapes of buildings, trees and stone walls. Something is so deeply beautiful in the lack of color. We live in a world of stunning visual stimulation. From bright clothes to HDTV, our eyes and brains are occupied constantly in a riot of red and yellow and green. I love color. I love playing with it, living in it and the celebration of the senses that it provokes, but something in my soul is soothed and healed by the quiet monochromatic world that a snowy morning creates. I love music and the sound of voices, but the falling snow on a path in the woods is a prayer call to silence. Here in the mountains each season offers its messages. Spring brings the rising of energy, summer the steady lush growing, autumn the brilliant dance of gratitude. Winter tells me to go inward and abide in what I experience as "the silence under silence" the ineffable ever present pure love that is experienced when my mind is at rest. When I stand on the snowy path I am reminded.