Silent Morn

I'm listening to an acapella rendition of Silent Night on my Sufjan Stevens Holiday station [Pandora]. I'm drinking hot apple cider and eating grahams, not so surprisingly, sandwiching a layer of peanut butter. I plugged in my twinkle lights and pulled up my blinds.

It's snowing.

I woke up in the stillness of the morning to peer out at a sugar dusted street. The tree branches are precariously stacked with piles of snow. It is steadily falling around the orange street lamp, thick and fluffy, making it's way to join the multitudes making up the white veil. Everything is clean. Quiet peace.

Upon this snow's arrival last night, I had planned to take a stroll before work. I am now questioning the logistics of this outing. I have no boots. And we're not talking about a light dusting. Tennis shoes will have to do. Tennis shoes and smart wools. Also, it is currently five fifty-one and quite dark and will likely continue to be so for quite some time. What am I even doing up at this hour? I actually woke up at about five and after peeping out through the slats at this winter wonderland resolved to awake in order that I may savor the arrival of my winter friend.

The first reason for my waking was due to my right arm which has been falling asleep every night and was quite painful this morning. After some research on webMD I'm thinking I need to be tested for carpal tunnel. Yes, carpal tunnel. At age 22. It's all downhill from here. But that is neither here nor there and decidedly not the subject I wish to write about this morning. I do however thank my tingling appendage for waking me up.

I tip-toed down stairs, my brown slippered foot letting out the familiar creaks on the old wooden stairs. I scurried across the kitchen to the back window and leaned over the bench to see the hundreds of rumples in the ground blanket. I giggled and smiled like a little girl. It felt like Christmas morning. The full, welcomed silence of a new day. The flakes cutting their path in the darkness. Simply magical.