Quiet in the New Year

Welcome to 2011!

The barn at the turn of the year.

We here at Persimmon Acres welcomed the new year in with a bonfire of sorts. We burned our Christmas tree. I was amazed by how quickly it went up in flames. It was a beautiful thing to watch, though, and the heat from it was welcome as it there was a cold rain falling at midnight.  January 1st dawned clear and cold. It hasn't been sunny all day here for weeks, and the sun reminded me of Colorado skies: blue from end to end. As I was walking the dogs on New Year's morning, I realized that I was hearing nothing. No birds.


No wind in the weeds that will be this year's garden. No rain falling. No frogs, no insects, no traffic on Westfield Road. Nothing. I was a little dumbfounded. How many times do we really hear nothing? It didn't last long, as the dogs started running back through the brittle grass to head inside and have their breakfast... but it was a beautiful moment.

When we first moved here, we were mesmerized by the sounds: although we didn't always here man-made sounds, the silent was anything but quiet; it was alive. Now that winter has set in, there are quiet moments. Truly still moments without wind, without traffic, without animal steps. And they are breath-taking. At times, especially at night, I feel as if I'm on top of the world (if the world's peak elevation were 599 feet!), especially when surrounded by these low fields huddling beneath a sky full of stars.