When it’s this cold outside, everything is motionless. I
stand at my front window with my forehead on the cold glass and look out. I
listen for sound. None. The stillness is startling. I observe more closely the
lack of motion. It’s freezing – the temperature was minus eleven this morning when we
got up – now it’s eleven above. No people are out…even cars are minimal. No
kids playing, no one even walking their dog. Where are the animals? I see no
birds about and no neighbors’ cats. The deer that have spent the winter in our
neighborhood have been missing for a week.
Nothing is melting; nothing is dripping. The icicles look
like glass embellishments on my house – permanent fixtures outside my kitchen
window. The road is quieted by frost – there’s no slush and no rivulets of melting snow.
Even the sky is still. I look across my backyard to the field beyond and
realize that not even a breeze bends the leafless branches of my lilac bushes
and no clouds move lazily across the horizon. The sun is shrouded in a foggy
haze and its movement, though present, is imperceptible.
My corner of the world is frozen.
