The Silence of White

Winter has a way of erasing the edges of the world, turning the loud, jagged lines of our daily lives into something soft and muted. When the sky decides to descend in white feathers, the earth holds its breath, waiting for the thaw. It is in this stillness that we find our true roots; we stop running toward the horizon and start looking for the hearth. There is a profound, ancient wisdom in the way we huddle together when the air turns sharp, seeking the glow of a lamp or the steam rising from a cup as if we are trying to keep the very idea of summer alive in our marrow. We are creatures of warmth, forever building small, glowing islands against the vast, cold indifference of the season. If the snow is a blanket meant to quiet the earth, what is the song that begins to hum beneath the frost when we finally stop to listen?

Ann Arthur has captured this quiet grace in her image titled Winter Pool. It reminds me that even in the coldest moments, there is a soft, inviting light waiting to be found. Does the winter make you feel more alone, or does it draw you closer to those around you?