Winter Seed Catalog Moon
The quiet of a northern winter night has settled here. The temperature, at 15, is 20 degrees higher than Tuesday night, yet still in the direction of cold. And cold is the physical equivalent of silence. There’s less and less molecular movement as the temperature goes down, in fact the temperature going down is decreased molecular and atomic movement. So here we are, cold and at night when human movement, too, is at a minimum.
The noises come from the computer, small ratcheting noises of a hard disk receiving or transmitting data, my own inner ear–a slight buzzing, my gut–a gurgle, but they are noises that underscore the silence rather than disturb it.
Just to sit alone now is to meditate, the field around me not so different from my inner one, undisturbed and undisturbing. A blankness, a sense of union, of being part of, not distinct from. This is why this time draws me, beckons to me to stay. To linger.
