Me, the Snow, and a Squirrel

The snow has been falling all day. Looking out my second story brownstone window I notice the weight of snow on the oak and pine tree branches guarding the street below. Car-blobs grow taller and rounder because they are gradually being buried. And even though I've worked long and hard today, and I might add, it's 11:00 pm, I can't resist going out for a walk. I want to be the first one to plow through with my boots, making deep holes as I trudge along.

There is another reason I want to go outside. When the snow is freshly fallen, before the snow plows or cars disrupt the mystery, there is a certain feeling one experiences. It's not just a feeling - it's a sound. Yet, not a sound, because what one hears is nothing. Nothing. No sound. Oh, you may detect a distant train or car honking, or a squirrel rustling in his treetop nest. But they seem farther away than usual, and I am outside, in my own world, in a snow land bubble that only those outside get to experience.

I'm so glad I made a big warm nest this time. Where is my mate? It's late. Oh, here he comes. We snuggle in the tree top nest and slowly warm each other up. Tonight will be a wonderful night for sleeping. Instead of the usual clanking and clanging of all the humans around us, or loud voices of tipsy people walking home from the bar a block over, we will be lulled to sleep by the sound of nothing. Oh how I love fresh fallen snow. The moon reflecting off the white blanket creates a twilight glow. Dark tree silhouettes stand stable and protectively along the car path. Bushes wear white caps, benches and light posts puff upwards under the snow.

I see a young woman walking near our tree. She is taking her time, enveloped in the quite, the silence.

Tomorrow I'll find those nuts I buried. Goodnight young lady.

Spotting the bare tip of a squirrel's head, I smile and turn back to my door, remembering I will need to wake early to remove the snow from my car and shovel out whatever the nighttime plows pack against the tires.

Goodnight little squirrel.