This is the quiet time. Only a slight tune from the chimes by the front door will break the silence.
The croaking frogs are gone, or burrowed into the mud for the winter. They didn't leave a forwarding address so I hope they find their way back to their pond this coming spring.
The trees are bare although they still stand tall and straight in the midst of the worst storms.
The only noise I hear on this back path is the sound of acorns crunching underneath -- which of course tells all the creatures in the woods that I am wandering around.
"You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." - Franz Kafka
