SOLC 1

Today is a quiet day. I sit at the table watching the sun pass over the tops of the trees, wishing for more heat and more light. The shadows sharpen and fade as the time passes. The kettle whistles brightly, calling me forth from my huddle for a cup of warmth to wrap my hands around. A squirrel visits the bird bath, jumping from the roof to the railing to deep in the denuded apple tree. Daffodils, wrapped in twine and water and glass reach for the sun, spilling their sweet scent into the air. The sun tracks across the sky, barely clearing the tops of the trees, going early into the west and leaving the sky full of blue but the meadow full of darkness. The stars will be out soon and the temperature will drop. The cup is long empty, my fingers growing stiff with the chill. It is time... time to leave the words of others and time to create my own.