“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape -the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.” ~ Andrew Wyeth
A collection of Tibetan singing bowls sounds its choir, each voice adding another layer of peace until the morning is consumed with singing. Vibrations of sound pierce the heart in a way that no other sensory motion can. The deeper the breath goes, the more expansive the plain of calm grows. In my mind, it begins as a small swath of light that slowly enlarges. With closed eyes, I see and sense this light as it grows, obliterating the encroaching shadows, dispelling the surrounding darkness, until there is nothing but light and calm and stillness.
Even in the midst of winter, there is all this peace and quiet. Even in the middle of a raging snowstorm, there is comfort and solace. Maybe such calm can only come in the middle of winter.
