Last night a cold front blew in, and I do mean BLEW. The wind whipped and raged so loudly it woke me from a sound sleep. I could hear the flag on the deck snapping and cracking, and the "whoosh" of the trees at they bent and swayed. I dozed off and the next sound I heard was the scrape of the town plows as they rumbled by. Snug in the dark I knew that this meant that the cold wind had brought snow with it.
I went for a walk in the morning light, up the hill, over the rushing creek. The creek cuts a dark swath through the newly whitened woods as it sings. I try to capture the beauty on film, but pictures don't do it justice. Chickadees punctuate the air between the branches, the only life in sight. Back home they stay close to the deck, feasting on seeds and nuts, calling to each other through the frosty air. These are some of the sounds of winter.