Solitude

Insomnia can sometimes provide some interesting experiences. Last night I stood on my back porch at 2:30 a.m. and listened to the quiet. It was a crisp 20 degrees. The 100 ft pine 10 feet from my door was gently raining needles. My eyes traced the trails of rabbit, deer and kitty that crossed the powder snow in the yard. In the distant, back by the tree line I could see the kitty hesitating, trying to decide if I had seen her. Finally she decided that I was too great a risk and as silent as the breeze she disappeared into the neighbor's yard. It was Christmas night and there was not much traffic on the road but I heard a rattling old truck trailing exhaust putt by. I watched my breaths steam clouds and thought of early morning bus stops. The tiny light in the house beckoned me back to warmth, a dying fire and warm kitties. Perhaps the stillness will have seeped deep enough now that I can relax and fall asleep. As I turn to go in I see the empty chair and recall the photo I scanned of Mae sitting in the semi dark of her porch. What was she thinking then or was she just, like me, letting her soul be still and taking in the quiet.