Silent Night

Christmas preparations are behind me--and, early enough to be able to enjoy this season, finding a few moments away from the hustle.

Saturday's mildness was whisked away by a chilling wind--tumbling darkly-shadowed, rosy clouds across a winter landscape.


Crawling into a flannel bed that night, I was thankful for the shelter of a warm, brick house--as the night raged about outside my rattling window.
I wondered how anything small could not be blown away on such an unfriendly night.


The next morning a thick blanket of clouds remained--silvery strips, as the sun played peek-a-boo with the wind.



But tonight all is quiet.
It is the silent, holy night.